


Lightweight at the Helm

by Diglossia



Category: Killerpilze, Panik
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-22
Updated: 2010-01-21
Packaged: 2017-10-06 13:19:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 35,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diglossia/pseuds/Diglossia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jan Werner, chemistry geek, finds himself part of a whole new world after he joins a local Crew (rowing) team. Written for German Music Big Bang.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

Jo hugs Mäx tightly, unable to truly comprehend what is about to happen. Mäx is leaving again to go to school in America. It will be months before they see each other again.

"Give this to Jan, okay?" Mäx says, pressing a thick envelope into Jo's hands. "And this to Frank," he says with a sad sigh. "If Frank won't take it, just- tell him I'm sorry."

"Mäx-" Jo says, a warning in his voice. It is apparent that he does not want to do this thing that Mäx has asked of him, that he would give anything to take these letters and throw them away.

"I'll get a new phone card once I get to the States," Mäx continues, ignoring Jo's distress. "I'll call you as soon as I can. I'll email you, too, so check your inbox."

Jo nods for a moment before his control breaks and he reaches out to Mäx and hugs him again, harder this time. The loudspeaker crackles to life and they listen to the row numbers of the flight being called.

"That's my row," Mäx says softly into Jo's neck. Jo bites his lip and presses a soft kiss to Mäx's jaw. Mäx runs his fingers through Jo's short brown hair, slowly coaxing his friend into letting go. They already said their proper goodbyes earlier when they were far away from the prying eyes of strangers- and Mäx's potential flight mates.

"I'll be back by Christmas," Mäx says. "We will see each other then."

"It's still a long time," Jo mumbles. And it is. It is early August. December is three whole months away, twelve weeks, a quarter of a year.

"I have to go," Mäx says. Jo shakes his head and holds Mäx tighter. "Babe, I _have_ to go. I'll miss the plane."

Jo lets go unhappily. Mäx smiles and takes one last look at his best friend and boyfriend standing there, looking so sad.

"I'll see you in December," he says. "And don't forget about those letters."

Jo smiles shakily, trying desperately to keep his composure with all these likely homophobic strangers standing round.

"Yeah, see you in December," he says.

"Jo," Mäx says, grabbing hold of Jo's wrist. "Please don't forget." He squeezes Jo's wrist and looks him directly in the eyes. "I'm going to miss you so much. So, so much. I'll call you as soon as I can so stay by the phone, okay?"

"Yeah." Jo smiles suddenly. "Alright, alright, get on your damn plane, man, before it leaves without you."

Mäx laughs.

"Jo?" he asks.

"Yeah?"

"Don't ever change."

Then Mäx turns and is gone. Jo's smile dissolves the second Mäx is out of sight. He turns and walks out of the terminal with a fierce glare that keeps everyone away. Jo stalks to the nearest trashcan. He yanks the letters out of his jacket pocket.

Jo stares at them, his heart filled with the greatest malice and abhorrence. He reads the names on the envelopes, complete with address and area code, knowing full well why Mäx could not mail them or, better yet, deliver them himself.

The first name, Frank Ziegler, is not that bad. In fact, had it not been paired with that other letter and that other name, Jo would not have thought twice about delivering it.

Frank, at one time, was one of Mäx's best friends. At one time, he and Jo had been decently friendly, too. They had hung out together on occasion and had gotten along quite well, actually. Jo is not when sure when they had had their falling out or when Frank stopped talking to Mäx.

But he sure as hell knows why.

Jo puts Frank's letter behind the second one. Instantly, he is flooded with astronomical amounts of hatred, his mind suddenly filled with a hundred ways to dispose of the letter. He could burn it, tear it to shreds, toss it towards the nearest tarmac, shove it in between the cushions of the bus he will take home, leave it on the baggage claim carrousel so that it will circle for hours and hours until an airport employee picks it up and throws it away. He could toss it over a bridge and let it soak up the heavy water and sink to the riverbed. He could tear the address off the envelope and shove it into the mailbox. Or- he could simply throw it away, right here and now. No one will have to know that it has not reached the person it was meant for. It is not as if the addressee will suddenly start talking to Mäx again. He is not competition, not now.

But Jo cannot lie to Mäx, not even for this. He stares down at that hated name and, with a disdaining snort, shoves it back into his coat pocket.

Jo strides out of the airport and goes out to the busses, climbing on the one that goes to a hotel not far from Frank's home.

ØØØ

Frank's letter is easy enough. It has a stamp on it already so Jo really does not need to deliver it by hand but he does anyway so as to delay the inevitable next delivery.

He walks down Frank's street and drops the letter into the tiny mailbox before ambling back down the way he has come.

"Jo?"

Jo starts, shocked to hear _that_ voice, the one he has been dreading so very, very much. He stands where he is and turns his head, hoping fervently that he is dead, dead wrong and that it isn't him…but it is.

"Hello," he says stiffly.

There, sitting on the porch of a house Jo does not recognize, are three boys, all Jo's age. They are seated in a sort of semi-circle facing the street. The middle boy holds a guitar with his fingers poised expertly over the strings and neck. He is the tallest of the three with black hair that has been obviously and poorly dyed and an exquisitely beautiful face. The boy to his left and Jo's right has brown hair and, oddly, brown eyes. His clothing is as far from his friend's as possible, a t-shirt and khaki board shorts while his friend wears long black pants and a long-sleeved black shirt. He has to be sweating in the summer heat, Jo thinks.

Those two hardly concern him, though. It is the other one, the tiny, skinny little blonde with the unnaturally big, blue eyes that Jo is focused on. That goddamned bastard just has to be here, of all places.

"It is you," the blonde says in awe. He gets to his feet slowly, as though his legs have fallen asleep from sitting on the house steps. Jo is glad he is in pain. "I didn't expect to ever see you again. What are you doing here?"

Jo grits his teeth hard to keep from curling his lip or, worse, snapping at the boy. What right does _he_ have to ask Jo what he is doing here? He doesn't even fucking live here! Jo is positive of that fact. The address is in his pocket and it is certainly not on _this_ street.

"I have something for you," Jo says gruffly.

The boy's eyes widen and he glances back at his friends. Jo does not notice if they say or do anything, his eyes are locked with an unhappy resolve on the little blonde.

Jo feels the old gorge rise in his throat and the never forgotten hot flush of anger overcomes him. After all this time, the boy still pulls the same reaction from him, utter, unmistakable hatred.

The minute Jo gets home, he changes into a purple shirt. He begins his countdown. Seven hours until Mäx's plane touches down. Seven hours until he can talk to Mäx again. Seven fucking hours until he asks about those damn letters.

ØØØ

A boy, small, blonde, and largely insignificant against the throng of students gathered in small groups all around the school courtyard, sits, reading a book. It is a textbook, not the average reading fare of a Gymnasium student, and it's large, ungainly so. His long, pale fingers turn the pages slowly as his eyes scan the miniscule text and the black and white graphs detailing the chemical reactions of various combining elements.

It is a chemistry book, hell for many of the students around him…and heaven for him. His name is Jan Werner and it is here that our story begins.

ØØØ

Jan glances over the top of his chemistry textbook for the third time. Now he is positive the clump of girls are staring at him. He pretends to see nothing other than the graph in front of him - he really doesn't need to be messed with today- but he is straining to hear what they are saying.

"Just go ask him!" one of them hisses loudly. There's a flurry of sound, the bodies of the students in the school courtyard scattering it too much for Jan to hear anything clearly.

"Oh, screw it, all of you!" someone announces.

Jan can hear someone walking toward him, the clack of her shoes clear against every other distracting sound. She plants herself in front of him and he looks up to see a brunette creature studying him, her manicured hands on her not-so-delicate hips.

"Hey, you."

Jan lowers his textbook. He peers up at her, the bright glare of the October sun blinding him. She is monstrously tall, approaching 180 centimeters by his guess, with a high ponytail pulling her honey-blonde hair back so tightly that Jan is afraid strands are going to start falling out. Jan supposes she's pretty. She is not really his type, being female and all.

"Me," he answers her, already preparing to shove his textbook back in his bag and make off to one of his professors' rooms. School has not officially begun for the day but Jan normally waits outside the room to his first class every morning. He does not like to stay outside where everyone is talking to their friends and locking their bikes up. Any friends he has are already inside by the time he gets to school.

"You doing anything this afternoon?" she asks, her expression slightly frightening to the much smaller boy. Jan's eyes grow huge. Is she seriously asking him out? This behemoth of a female whose name he doesn't even know is asking him to do something this afternoon? Jan's head starts to spin.

"Um, no," he squeaks.

"Good. We could use someone like you for our crew team. You'd make a great coxswain." She tosses a folded piece of paper in his lap. "Come to the boathouse this afternoon around one o'clock." She turns to leave, her tiny hips swaying like a model's. Jan stares at her, noting her broad shoulders.

"Wait!" he calls, scrambling to his feet and throwing out his hand to catch her wrist. She pauses, her brows arched arrogantly, making Jan feel completely insignificant. "What's crew?"

She rolls her eyes.

"Show up at that address at one o'clock and you'll see."

ØØØ

"Cock what?" Timo asks as he wolfs down another cheese sandwich.

"Coxswain. I'm not really sure what it is, either."

"You don't know what it is but you're going anyway?"

"Um, yeah," Jan says, his embarrassment growing. "It's not far from here. You want to come with me? I was going to ride my bike there."

Timo makes a face.

"Honestly?" Timo shrugs. "No. What's the address?"

Jan hands him the slip of paper. Timo reads it and brightens up.

"I know where that is. It's close to David's house. I was going to go over there later anyway."

_Of course you were,_ Jan thinks sulkily. David is Timo's other really good friend and Timo does not even try to hide the fact that he likes David more than he likes Jan. It's a "best friend thing" according to the two of them and it makes Jan feel horrible as though it is his fault that Timo likes David better.

Jan does not have many friends and certainly not a 'best' one. He wishes he did sorely, but the only person he is really close to is Timo and he is already taken.

ØØØ

Jan looks around, completely unable to hide his anxiety. This is the address according to Timo, who was sweet enough to ditch him a street back when he had to take the turn to go to David's house. Jan does not want to think about how Timo cannot even bother to bike with him the short way to the concrete boathouses at the end of the street almost where the river banks before turning.

Jan supposes that's the point; a boathouse, in all intelligence, must house boats and boats need water to have a function.

The area seems abandoned. The three enormous concrete sheds are shut tight, their three-story tall white doors closed and locked. He tried the normal sized door on one of the boathouses and finds it locked. Jan sighs and scuffs his feet on the ground, feeling foolish. He walks back to where he's locked his bike to the fence and digs his keys out of his pocket when he hears a hoarse shout.

Jan turns back and stops, stunned at the sight of a dark green and white striped boat longer than a car suddenly appearing in the clearing. A short person clad in an enormous hoodie and shorts seems to be directing the four men holding the boat on their shoulders. The man at the front catches Jan's attention the most and soon he's staring at him, ignoring the director running towards the far boathouse and disappearing inside.

The man is tall, insanely so, almost Jan's height and a half, with short blonde hair sticking at odd angles and a look so intense that he looks almost enraged for all that his body is calm and relaxed. He shifts the boat from his shoulder to his hands, lifting it up above his head. He flips it over easily, the muscles in his arms shifting powerfully before he drops it into a set of wooden slings the director had set out.

Jan's attention is broken when a man steps before him, a deep frown on his tanned face.

"Lars Breitmann. Can I help you?" he asks, his face obscured by black sunglasses.

"Um," Jan begins, his eyes straying to look at the blonde man by the boat. "I was asked to come here. Something about a coxswain?" Jan says nervously, his voice growing smaller with every word as he begins to doubt once again that the girl talking to him earlier had not been full of ill intent. Perhaps this was all a stupid trick and he had fallen for it like an idiot.

"I don't remember anyone mentioning a new coxswain-," Lars says.

"Coach!" a girl calls out.

Lars and Jan both turn towards the riverbank. A mammoth yellow boat, far larger than the green and white one the men had been carrying, clears a steep rise Jan hadn't noticed before up to the concrete where he and Lars are standing. Ten girls strain underneath it, supporting the enormous weight on their shoulders, the two at the farthest back looking ready to collapse. One girl lets go without warning and sprints towards the concretes, curses from the other girls following her as the boat dips alarmingly to one side.

"Coach!" she calls again, her brown ponytail slapping her neck audibly as she runs. She stops in front of Lars, not the least bit winded. Jan recognizes her with difficulty: it's the girl who gave him the address to the boathouse earlier in the day.

"Coach, this is the guy I was telling you about," she says, looking directly at Jan. "I'm sorry but I forgot your name." Jan flushes, aware of all the girls glaring at him for taking their support away as well as the expectant looks on Lars and the girl's faces.

"It's Jan," he mutters, licking his bottom lip nervously. "I, uh, I've never done this kind of thing before. Rowing, that is."

The girl shrugs. "We'll teach you. Coxswains don't do all that much rowing anyway." She covers her eyes and glances at the fading sun, seeing something Jan can't. "It's too late today to get you out on the water but Coach can help you with some of the basics so long as you know your right from your left. You do, don't you?"

"I'm pretty sure I do."

She grins and claps Jan's shoulder.

"Good man. I've got to get back to the eight before Sara skins me alive but you should be fine with Coach. The boys are bringing the launch in now, so you might be able to meet some of them before they ditch and head home. Today was awesome; I wish you'd gotten here sooner so we could have taken you out." She smiles one last time before sprinting off, yelling to the girls holding up the boat. Jan stares after her. She seems far more confident and together than this "Coach" fellow who couldn't even remember that Jan was coming today.

"Okay, then," Lars says, pulling his sunglasses off. "We'll start right now. There are four basic parts of the boat: port, starboard, the bow, and the stern. Now, port is your left as the coxswain and the rowers' right. Starboard is your right and the rowers' left. A stroke on port will turn your boat towards starboard; a stroke on starboard will turn the boat port.

The bow is the very front of the boat and the farthest away from you. The stern is the very back of the boat. Does that make sense?"

Jan nods mutely, lying for all that he is worth. The words starboard and port just barely sink into his mind- which is still focused on the blonde man and the men bringing the boat inside the now open boathouse- but everything else vanishes instantly.

"Now, we here at F use two types of boat: the four and the eight. The four is made up of four rowers and one coxswain. The eight is made up of eight rowers and one coxswain. Each rower has one oar and whichever side that oar faces is that rower's designated side. A rower whose oar is on the port side of the boat is a port rower and vice versa.

The oars interchange so that the rower behind a port rower rows starboard and the rower behind that rower rows port."

Lars grins.

"Be here at two tomorrow?"

ØØØ

Jan bikes slowly, his eyes on the ground as he scans it for fallen branches and trash that could get stuck in his tires. Timo bikes beside him, his notebook clutched in one hand against the handlebar. Jan met up with him at the supermarket behind David's house. He had waited almost forty-five minutes for Timo to show up, David at his side. Jan had been embarrassed for the pair of them when they had started their "separation ritual" which consisted of tight hugs and whispered words that Jan was damn glad he hadn't had to hear. It was ridiculous the lengths they went to when saying good-bye as if they wouldn't be calling each other for the rest of the day. Still, for all its elaborate stupidity, it made Jan feel doubly lonely that he did not have someone who cared that much about him.

They bike over the high bridge spanning the river. For the first time in his memory, Jan actually _looks_ at the water, noticing its black-green color and the white caps interspersed among the soft waves. He smells the salt-laden air and hears the crash of waves against the riverbanks. A few seagulls are alit on the streetlamps lining the bridge, big, white and grey birds interested only in the occasional dropped sandwich or mussel.

"Have you decided if you're going to actually do this cocking thing?" Timo asks skeptically.

Jan glances at him, stomping hard on the urge to snap at Timo.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, dude. And, I told you, it's _coxswain_. You make it sound like some kind of kinky sex act."

Timo laughs.

"You sure it's not? All those girls in _tight_ shorts and sports bras pulling _enormous_ poles through the water while you sit there and watch them? Sounds pretty dirty to me."

"Remind me why I hang out with you, you big jerk," Jan says. He isn't really annoyed with Timo, just tired of him ragging on him every time he decides to do something without his friend.

It does not make a damn bit of sense to Jan that Timo becomes so irritable whenever Jan does something Timo is not interested in. After spending so much time obsessing over David, Timo's possessiveness doesn't make Jan happy for the attention, just annoyed. Sometimes- a really alarming number of sometimes- Jan wants to tell Timo what he really thinks. Timo needs to back off and let Jan meet new people, especially if Timo cannot stop calling David his best friend.

"Yes, okay? I'm going to try this and, if it fucks up, it fucks up. What's it to you?" Jan snaps, exhausted by Timo's attitude. "You have an excuse to play piano with David- or whatever you two do together," he adds when Timo looks ready to argue. Timo has not played piano in three years because he thinks it is a girly instrument (David's playing it somehow not fitting that description) and would rather mess around with David's guitar.

Jan plays guitar, too, and he knows Timo is not as good as he or David is, a fact that cuts Timo to pieces because he can't match David. Timo hates admitting he is not good at something, to the point that Jan wonders how he can stand being around David at all. David is a _genius_ at music, playing five instruments since he was five and regionally placed for piano playing and composition.

Timo has no such gift with instruments but he can write and rhyme in a way that stuns Jan. Words are Timo's real gift and he can twist sounds with his pen and his voice that turn into something Jan could never do himself. He has recorded a little bit with David and Jan both in those rare times when the three of them actually sit down together and write music. David has a few programs on his rickety old laptop that Jan knows inside and out, and with Timo's voice and David's playing, they can make a few sounds into real, albeit imperfect, songs.

But those times are rare for a reason and have been getting rarer still over the last year. Jan cannot stand the friendship between Timo and David, especially when it is so obviously juxtaposed against his own with the brunette rhymer. David hovers around Timo when they are not actually touching each other, constant one-armed hugs and other forms of contact Jan hates seeing.

Every week it becomes more torturous to see them and Jan has been avoiding threesome outings. He hasn't been to David's house in three months and he really has no desire to go again. Let Timo spend his time with David: Jan's got a new hobby and it is crew.

ØØØ

School the next day is especially unexciting, anxious as Jan is about going to the boathouses later that day. He has little clue what will happen. The girl from the team had mentioned "taking him out on the water", which Jan assumes to mean going out on one of the boats.

It is odd, the feeling within him when he thinks about her. It is not quite a physical attraction, more of a friendly connection, as though she actually wants him around, unlike Timo. Jan does not even know what her name is but still she had been inviting and interested in him, if a little over-talkative and bossy. Maybe this crew thing will actually be good for Jan. He needs new friends and ones who actually give a damn about him will be a plus.

He slogs through his morning classes, barely paying attention to the other students around him as he focuses on the teachers and their lectures. Their opinions of him are more important anyhow.

Lunch comes and Jan sets himself down against one of the pillars next to the bike racks. Few people stay by the school buildings once lunch is called, going off with friends to the local shops to grab food. Jan does not eat lunch very often and, when he does, it is always with Timo.

Timo is terrible about staying in school and Jan often wonders idly whether his friend will even graduate. Timo's acceptance into Gymnasium had been a shock to them both, though a far more pleasant one for Jan as it meant he would have someone he knew at school with him for another few years.

Timo would rather have gone to school with David across the city but he hadn't had the notes to get in. Jan privately thinks it was better for Timo that he isn't with David any more than he already is. Their relationship seems to be bordering on obsession, unless, of course- and this Jan does not and cannot know- that is the way of all best friends and Jan simply has no such experience.

Then the clock changes hands and the students started to pour inside the building. Jan follows, slipping his chemistry textbook back into his backpack, feeling somehow at once more and less alone than he normally does.

ØØØ

The _Jugendruderverein Neumünster_, the name of the club, is a decent sized group of teenagers from the various schools in the city. In fact, most of the kids do not even attend Jan's school, which helps his anxiety immensely since no one knows him. The girl who invited him to join the team, Frederike, is friendly enough. However, Jan has little to nothing to do with her or any of the girls, for that matter. He spends the first few weeks in the coach's launch, an empty green hull that looks like a relic from World War II. There is a large motor attached to the back that powers the thing and several life vests packed away under and around the metal benches. The metal gets hot quickly from the glaring sun, so much so that many of the extras or swap-outs who ride in the launch with Jan end up stretching out to sunbathe.

The bottom of the hull is cold from the water. Jan listens to the slap of the water as Coach Breitmann pauses the motor to wait for the girl's eight, the big, yellow boat he encountered on his first day, to round the bend of the river. He watches the boys' four row swiftly ahead up to the bridge, feeling completely out of place. Jan has nothing to do, just sit in the launch and watch "his" team practice.

"You wanna give it a try?"

"What?" Jan asks, startled out of his reverie. Frederike raises an eyebrow, an amused smile on her lips, as Jan wonders what she means. He has not rowed at all since he joined the team and would most likely end up flipping the boat trying to get in.

"Do you want to try and cox?"

Jan's eyes widen. This is what he has been hoping for and dreading. This is why he is here, why he is on the team. He swallows hard and nods.

"Y-yeah, sure," he says. Frederike is already calling out to Maike, the coxswain in the girls' eight. Maike raises her hand, and then gives Frederike a thumbs up sign, a combination that puzzles Jan at first until he realizes she means she is okay with the switch. Coach Breitmann revs the motor and the move in. Maike climbs out of her compartment and jumps into the launch easily.

Jan is not quite so graceful. The motor has started a medium-sized wake which causes the eight to rock back and forth violently, not that the rowers seem to notice what with their oars checked in the water. Jan extends a leg shakily, Maike yelling at him over the engine not to step in the bottom of the boat as it will damage the shell. Jan's stomach flip-flops as he sort of rolls into the seat, causing the boat to rock even more.

The boat feels nothing like the launch. For one, the coxswain's seat is warm and incredibly narrow. Jan fits alright once he adopts the coxswain crouch, a sort of combination between a fully raised sit up and a loose splay. The stroke, a tall brunette Jan knows by face but not by name helps him with the Cox Box, a headset with an attached microphone that is attached to what amounts to a large cylindrical container. It measures stroke rate, stroke count, and time all in one. As such, it is an extremely expensive piece of equipment, roughly €330 for a single set. Jan is not feeling so good about being responsible for it.

Then, with a nod and a call of "good luck", the launch moves off and all the girls are looking at him.

"You have no idea what you're doing, do you?" the stroke asks, her blue eyes full of mirth. "Tell the bow to row till we reach the bridge, 'kay?"

Jan does as she says. The four girls in the bow pick up their oars and the stern pulls out of their check. The boat jerks forward and Jan grabs the sides of the shell as he feels his lunch rise up. It feels like someone has kicked him in the stomach, the wind nearly knocked out of him by the dizzying feeling.

"Thanks," he tells the brunette when he can breathe again.

"You're welcome. Now you need to adjust the rudder before we run into one of the pillars. The space between them is fairly regular but the bridge slants on the port side coming up the river. Take the middle and take it slow. The rope on both sides of you- take hold of it, by the way, now, if you would-" Jan grasped at the rope, taking it in both hands the way she showed him. "-controls the rudder. Pull on the port side now."

Jan does as she says, not really understanding most of it but trying his best to learn. When they pass through the bridge, he is a mess, worrying about hitting the starboard side pillar. She reassures him, muttering commands.

"Weigh enough!" she yells a few meters after they pass the bridge. The bow stops rowing immediately. Jan is impressed. The brunette smiles. "We don't say stop in crew," she tells him. "If you ever need someone to stop rowing, say weigh enough. It sounds silly but that's what we say. I'm Iona, by the way."

"Jan," he says back. Her smile is contagious and soon he's smiling back. The girls break into talking as Iona starts filling him in on all things coxswain, smiling the whole time. She is very nice and extremely helpful, answering all his questions, making him feel so much better about this whole coxing thing.

He can see himself becoming good at this.

ØØØ

Due to a shortage of coxswains in the Jugendruderverein, Jan is scheduled to cox for the first race of the season. The day of the race, he is a bundle of nerves and anxiety, checking and rechecking all the equipment to make sure he has forgotten _nothing_, and finding every time that each change he makes is not enough. He tightens and untightens nuts, looks up the lane number on the official list, and checks his rowers' water bottles until Linke, the bow second, grabs him and tells him to chill the fuck out before he hurts himself.

Thirty minutes before the officials call them down to the loading dock, Jan rechecks anything, making sure to stay out of everyone's way. He picks at his spandex uniform anxiously, yanking the loose fabric down from where it is riding parts he would rather it not ride up. Still, there is time to kill. Nothing to do except wait.

Finally, their number is called and Jan gives the command to roll the boat up out of the slings and carry it overhead. The four rowers with Jan at the helm, Cox Box in hand, make their way down to the loading dock. At his word, they roll the boat into the water. Jan hands out the oars before stepping into the cox seat.

The boat moves out easily. The four has little to no check. It feels like they are gliding over the water, the rhythm of the strokes is so perfect. The last of the morning chill has faded, leaving the air deliciously warm at first, though it thickens by the time the starting line is in sight. They wait for the official's signal.

Jan asks the bow to row them in to the starting line. A race volunteer waits there to grab hold of the stern and keep them in line for the few minutes until the race starts.

The air is muggy, thick with the humidity of the waning summer. It is oppressive, where sweat feels like hot rain on the rowers' cheeks, never seeming to evaporate as more and more sweat pools on their brow, the air so thick that it seems as dense as the water beneath them.

Anxiety builds within them, the import and impossibility of winning or even placing becoming greater with every passing second. The boats around them, filled with men in colored spandex, muscles bulging as they poise with oars set as far back as possible, their arms stretched impossibly far forward, all waiting and straining for the race to begin.

Then comes the announcer's voice over the loudspeaker, counting down in the ritual French:

"_Trois._"

The rowers hold fast.

"_Deux._"

Their muscles shake with excitement.

"_Un!_"

They throw themselves backwards, pulling their oars powerfully as they complete the first stroke. The slides screech as they pull forward at an insane speed before slamming into the footrests. They pull back again, Jan screaming the count. Sweat pours and slices of water flash, glimpses of bright colors from the other boats just visible out of the corners of their eyes. Jan starts the count again, screaming encouragement and curses, anything to make his rowers speed up.

They are third behind the leading boat, the lift two more behind them. Jan bellows into his headset so that even Mäx at the bow is yelling back, all of them echoing the stroke, counting together. Mäx leans incredibly far back, trying to cut the wind for the other rowers with only his back but it is enough. Juri is leading. As stroke, it is his duty and chore to keep the pace up. Jan can scream all he wants but without Juri, the pace is off, the check increases, and they are lost in a whirlwind of crabs and off-timing as the boat slides farther and farther behind.

The check is smooth, wonderfully so, as the rowers pull their oars through the water moving fast beneath them. They glide through the water, flying over the liquid medium so fast that now they are in second place. Jan glances at the boats next to them. They are a nose behind but that's too close and so he yells at his rowers, demanding they pick the pace up. There are only five hundred meters left, they're over halfway through but this is the point when everyone speeds up and where one missed stroke can lose a race or turn second into fourth.

Mäx is losing control over his oar. The wind is brutal and he's bending as far back as he can but Juri's stroke is too fast and Juri too tall for Mäx to truly match him. It's not Mäx's fault but Jan screams at him anyway, pushing him to give it his all.

There is only one boat next to them now, the nearest behind them half a boatlength behind. Jan's bellows are met with his rower's shouts. They are counting down together, Power Twenties that are so powerful and uncontrolled that Jan's body is thrown forward with every stroke, the check making him violently nauseous.

There are fifteen meters left to the orange flag. Jan screams for a last two Power Twenties. His rowers' screams are discordant yells, the power of their strokes and the sprays of brackish water all that makes sense anymore. They pull harder, blisters breaking open on their oars as they slam through the last few meters.

The next boat is perfectly next to them but the stroke is shorter than Juri and Jan knows they are going to win this race if Mäx does not lose himself and hit Linke's oar. They have it, Jan knows it, and he pushes them that last few strokes.

And then it's over, the blare of the air horn in rapid secession too fast for them to know who has won. Juri's oar slows and the other rowers follow him as the boat flows over the water too quickly. Once they drift too close to the bank of the river, though, he has to take over and he does, having them check their oars.

Sweat drips down Juri's forehead, strands of sweat-stroked hair clinging to his face. His strong chin is enhanced by his hair and his beautiful muscles, his frame so strong and caught in a stolen moment after an athletic accomplishment that Jan is dazed by the sight of him. He forgets himself as he stares at the rower glistening with salty sweat, so handsome in the summer light. Jan wants to reach out and push Juri's wet hair back and kiss those beautiful lips. He restrains himself, as he always does, reigning his desire back in because now is not the time to act on an emotion that is likely unrequited.

Jan congratulates the boat next to them on a race well rowed. The coxswain grins at him and directs his boat towards the dock. Jan's boat follows after and then he hops out of the boat. Juri, Linke, Frank, and Mäx clamber out next and turn over to undo the locks holding their oars in place. They pile them on the dock where the girls pick them up as others hand them their shoes. Moments later they pull the boat out of the water and flip it over, carrying it off the dock and up onto the campground where the boats lie in slings and on trailers.

The ground is filled with spandex-clad rowers and boats. Stacks of riggers lie on the ground while rowers work frantically to loosen nuts. Another race is being called as Jan directs them over to the wooden slings and they turn the boat over, setting it carefully down. Wrenches are passed out; the stroke for the next race rows starboard and all of the rigs have to be switched for the next race.

They make quick work of it and then scatter to the tent to grab bagels and lemonade. Jan grabs a roll of electrical tape and moves around to check on his rowers. Their hands are covered in blisters and he tapes across the top of their palms where the oar is gripped. The pain's still there but the skin won't get ripped any further and they can row again with the thin tape as support.

Frank's hands are especially bad. Jan takes his time wrapping the tape around his hands, enjoying the close contact. He likes Juri a lot but Frank is easily second in his mind, attractive, fit, and smart enough for Jan's standards. He is a good rower, too, a great port and a decent stroke for all that he's rarely sober. The rest of the team jokes about his and Mäx's drug use, saying the weed makes them better in the boat but Jan's not sure he agrees with that. Regardless, Frank's good at what he does and he's certainly no _worse_ high than sober.

Frank thanks him, giving Jan a one-sided hug and congratulating him on the race. Jan smiles tight-lipped and moves on to check on Mäx whose curled up in the trailer bed with someone's blanket, the girl's four asleep around him. They have already rowed today but they've another race to go in the late afternoon and their coxswain is directing another race, so there's no one to tell them off for sleeping.

The air was chilly earlier in the day but has warmed considerably since, the cool metal of the trailer the most pleasant thing around. Jan climbs into the trailer bed, shaking Mäx's shoulder until the bow rower stirs. He wraps tape around Mäx's fingers where one of the blisters has started to pus. There's a long cut crossing Mäx's left hand, the dominant hand for a port rower. Jan bandages that as well, though more loosely so that Mäx will be able to move his hand with almost full range. Mäx nods his thanks and falls back onto the blankets, asleep sooner that Jan can even clamber into the side of the trailer bed and take a nap himself.

ØØØ

The second race for Jan is with the girls' eight. The difference is noticeable instantly: the girls are slower, their pace more sedate and their strength weak compared to the guys. It seems they get nowhere with each stroke and Jan is sitting hard on his desire to scream at them to stroke harder.

It takes almost twice as long to row out to the start dock. They line up, the volunteer clutching their stern as they wait for the others to show up. There are eight boats in this race, eight eights filling all lanes. Jan will have to take care not to stay in his unmarked lane. Women's races are notorious for 'crossing' lanes and honestly cutting another boat off can be dangerous. It is illegal, too, if the race officials can prove that it was not an accident. Jan grips his lead line between his hands, the wooden toggles in his palms. He will have to direct out to the right side of the river and redirect to straight after a hundred meters to stay in his lane. The raceway is curved, the end completely invisible until five hundred meters in, nearly a third of the race, and then curving again for the last two hundred. It's a nasty illusion, the rowers thinking they've finished the race when they still have a hundred meters to go.

Frederike is stroke and her fierce glare of attention is frightening so close to Jan's face. He adjusts his headset, testing the Cox Box against the boat's speakers. The alternating chirps of "ready, Jan" are disconcerting after the four's snarls and snaps. Jan knows the girls are ready and that they're sitting at attention but he just can't let go of the feeling that they aren't focused enough, that this race is going to be slower, more languorous, than the boys' race.

Jan clears his throat and turns back to nod at the volunteer holding the boat in place. One of the other eights is drifting so much so that the race officials spend tense minutes arguing with the coxswain. The boat finally rights itself and the countdown begins.

"_Trois! Deux! Un!_"

And they're off, slicing through the water as the girls smack their slides too hard. The check is only tolerably smooth, jerking forward only to slow as the slides fall into place. Jan grips the sides of his seat tightly, adjusting the rudder quickly to offset the girls' course.

They are flying over the water but they are so behind Jan knows that they just are not going to win this race. Two of the girls are tiring, their strokes falling out of rhythm. As they near fourth place, almost nose to nose with the next boat over, the crowd screaming from the bank, Lara catches a crab. Her oar flies up out of her hands, Jan stares at it in shock as it catches deeper into the water and flings back up, hitting Lara in the forehead and slamming her backwards into Hannah, who screams as the oar hits her, too. Jan screams with all he's got for the rowers to skim their oars- they have enough speed to coast and finish the race from here- and the boat slows. He can see blood running from Hannah's nose as she holds it, crying loudly as the blood doesn't stop but cascades down over her hands and onto her oar and lap. Lara's apologizing, falling over her words as she twists back in her seat- Jan and Frederike scream at her to turn back before she upsets the boat but then it's far too late and Hannah's too upset.

The eight tips violently to the starboard side. The girls scramble to undo their footstraps and slide out as the boat tips over, the port oars cutting through the air before smacking into the water. Jan doesn't see it. He is already underwater, busy yanking the Cox Box out before it disappears into the green depths of the lake. He can just barely see the girls swimming around him to the surface, the currents they create pushing against him, making it difficult to remember which way is up.

Someone grabs him by the waist and kicks furiously, dragging him upwards. Jan's losing his breath. He clutches the Cox Box tightly. It would cost hundreds of Euros to replace and the team can't afford a new one now. As the coxswain, the blame would fall on him for losing the precious equipment.

They break the surface and Jan is hauled to the upturned eight.

"Grab the shell!" his savior yells in his ear. "The launch is coming. You're going to be fine!"

Jan coughs, water spluttering out of his lungs. He blinks blearily, watery sludge making his vision cloudy. His girls are all around the boat, some holding the shell like him, some swimming in the water. Jan pulls the Cox Box out of the water and places it delicately on top of the yellow shell. He can hear the emergency launch's engine and the sounds of people yelling instructions.

"They're taking Hannah in," Frederike tells him as she swims small circles to stay afloat. "They think Lara's oar might have given her a concussion-"

"I'm so sorry," Lara cries from the other side of the shell. "I didn't mean to hit her-" She hiccups and shudders, causing the shell to tilt to the side.

"Lara!" Frederike snaps. Lara hiccups again and loosens her hold on the boat.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she blubbers, hot tears coursing down her cheeks, her drenched blonde hair sticking to the sides of her face. "I- I c-caught a crab and I lost control of my oar and it j-just hit Hannah, and then, and then, she was bleeding and I turned back and I'm sorry, Jan!"

"It's okay, Lara," Jan says soothingly, not used to such over-emotion. "They're going to take Hannah to see a doctor on shore and everything's going to be fine."

"How do you know?" Lara cries. "What if she's really hurt and they can't do anything? What if she dies?!"

"She's not going to die," Iona says firmly from Jan's left. He looks over at the tall brunette in surprise, realizing that she must have been who had pulled him to the surface. Iona is shockingly calm, as though the eight capsizing is nothing. "No one's ever died from a crab in one of these races, Lara. Hannah's going to have a headache for a while and her nose might have to be splinted, but she's going to be alright. Now, when the launch gets here, we all need to take the oars out of the riggers. The boat can't be turned back over with the oars the way they are. Don't-" Iona says, putting a hand up as some of the girls instantly grab on to the rigs. "- do it now. Wait for the launch. We'll do the stern first and then the bow. Everyone understand?"

There is a chorus of relieved concordances.

"Thank you," Jan says quietly. Iona smiles.

"It's not your fault, coxswain. You did what you were supposed to and saved the Cox Box as well. Coach wouldn't be too happy if you had lost it."

ØØØ

There is a race the very next weekend and this time the team is staying overnight at a hostel. In the morning, they will get up two hours before the races and head down to the racecourse to set up the boats. For now, though, a party is raging.

Jan is scrunched into the corner of the hostel room in a confused ball, watching the guys from the eight and two of the mixed fours play some form of the beer pong game that all of those American movies about university play. They are all either drunk or high or some frightening combination of both and it is very disturbing to watch all of the huge rowers yelling and cheering over the din of the radio which is playing American rap music. Jan cringes to the sounds of Beyonce singing about really dirty things he can only half comprehend because he never did pay much attention in English class. The rowers- his rowers- are chanting crude lyrics, though, so Jan's hardly lacking for revolting jokes.

He takes a sip of his beer shakily, too overwhelmed by the loud noise and the constant movement around him to stay calm. A few guys are missing, namely Juri, and Jan wonders where he is. Doesn't he want to play the games, too?

Jan has a fantasy going on in his head right then of Juri getting a little too drunk and noticing him sitting in the corner. He imagines Juri coming over to him and sitting down next to him, and then leaning in and kissing him before admitting that he likes Jan, too, and has for a long while. Then they would leave this horrible room with too much noise and too much weed and too much beer, and then Juri would kiss him softly for a long time, just sweet the first time and maybe more later on when things play out and Juri dumps Christina and starts dating him.

"You okay, man?"

Jan jolts out of his fantasy world, his face alight with hope, thinking somehow that it's Juri talking to him, that everything is going to play out the way he imagined it. His hope sinks immediately, though, when he realizes it's not Juri at all but Frank and his ever-present pothead friend Mäx.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Jan says without thinking, his chest suddenly filled with painful disappointment. Frank frowns and kneels beside him, clutching the metal frame of the bunk bed Jan's hiding behind. Frank's eyes are predictably red, as are Mäx's and Jan has not got a damn bit of doubt why.

"Nah, you're not," Frank says. "Come on, let's get you back to your room."

He holds out his hand to Jan. Jan glances at him uncertainly but takes it, leaving his beer on the floor. He follows Frank and Mäx out the door and into the hallway, his spirits sagging even more when they don't run into Juri along the way.

"You should get some sleep," Frank says, stopping Jan outside the door to his room, his hand on Jan's shoulder. "Tomorrow'd be a disaster if you're hung over."

Jan stares at him, not sure how to take advice from a guy stoned out of his mind. Frank smiles and pats Jan's shoulder.

"Just get some rest," Frank says. "We can't have our coxswain falling asleep at the stern."

ØØØ

As the tallest of the rowers in the four, Juri never carries the boat on his shoulder. He keeps it just off his shoulder, eight centimeters down. Jan notices this not because of his specific interest in Juri but because of the irrefutable fact that the boat is perpetually at a perfect angle to _wap_ him in the head. Getting hit by the fiberglass shell hurts, obviously, but the bigger problem is the disorienting effect that has on several occasions caused him to stumble and nearly fall off the dock. It is only due to Juri's quick one-armed grabs that Jan has not ended up a stinking, soaked, and completely unamused mess.

It would not be so bad if the water in the immediate area of the dock were not the most polluted. Not only do the geese and ducks relieve themselves on the dock's worn wood but empty, dead crab shells and mangled refuse find their way there as well. The rowers have learned the folly of not looking where they tread and where they place their oars.

The water is a dark greenish brown and saturated with salt. During low tide, the sulphur entrenched in the mud bubbles out in sickening quantities, making even the most experienced rower gag and beg the coxswain to hurry their departure. The smell is so intense and so disturbing that many have questioned whether it is not in fact dangerous to inhale the fumes. But the smell, like the appearance of the polluted water, quickly fades from notice once the boats pull away and the oars move.

On the water, out past the shoreline and the houses, it is calm and beautiful. The sky seems never ending, stretching from one side to the other as far as you can crane your neck, with only the span of bridges and the houses dotting the shoreline showing the passage of distance to the casual observer. But the water holds many unnoticed bits of subcultures, like the crab pots interspersed along the waterway. Ordinary people set these contraptions out along the water, relying only on bits of raw chicken meat and simple metal designs to ensnare the tasty crabs that abound in these waters. The people that row on this river know the crab pots well. There is even a term that seems to refer to the peculiar problem presented by the football-sized buoys the crab pot ropes are attached to: crabbing.

In rowing, crabbing means to catch your oar in the water in such a way that the oar, through a combination of the force of the boat's push through the water and the lack of movement in the water itself, becomes snared. When this happens, the oar handle typically jams or hits the rower against his chest while the oar slows the speed of the boat. In more dramatic conditions, such as a race, crabbing can be dangerous. The oar handle can pop up with frightening speed and slam into the rower's face or head, leading to bloody noses and, under extreme circumstances, concussions. It is therefore in all the rowers' best interests to stop the boat until the crabbed oar can be fixed by the rower leaning far back and pulling the oar over his head.

ØØØ

Jan watches Juri texting his girlfriend while they wait for the eight to catch up. It is halfway down the river because they are practicing today and most of the guys didn't show up, so the girls are using the spare eight to train the newcomers and they are crabbing the whole way up. Jan checks his watch as though he cares, too preoccupied with studying Juri to actually check the time.

Juri's lips twitch upwards and he begins to text a reply, looking absolutely gorgeous hulked over his phone. His knees are almost in Jan's face but Jan doesn't care.

"Coxswain."

Jan stares at Juri's fingers. He is so used to Juri texting that he can almost tell what the texts say by the way Juri's fingers fly over the keys. Almost. Jan knows if he paid that little bit of attention more that he'd know the message of every text but he's not sure he really wants to. Personal love texts to just might break his heart, he thinks.

"_Coxswain._"

Juri's hair has gotten lighter from practicing every day. It used to be a dark, almost sandy blonde but now it resembles more of a sunflower-like color. Jan likes it now that it's getting long. It's past Juri's ears and he sweeps it across his forehead in the most attractive way-

"JAN!"

"Huh?" Jan says as he snaps back to attention. He looks out to the bow and hears an irritated curse from Mäx.

"The eight's here," Mäx says, obviously annoyed. "And we've drifted way off point. Do you want me to take a stroke or not?"

"Uh, yeah, that's fine," Jan says, readjusting his headset to cover his embarrassment. He can almost hear Mäx rolling his eyes as he takes a too strong stroke. They spend the next few minutes adjusting the boat until they're lined up to start a Power Twenty. Jan gives the go ahead before he's ready and the four jerks off, the catch throwing Jan forward into Juri's feet. Juri's oar misses him by all of three centimeters before Jan can grab hold of the sides of the boat.

"Five," he calls out, having missed the first four strokes. There's laughter from Linke and Frank, and Jan's cheeks pink.

Today's practice is going to be horrible, he just knows it.

ØØØ

It's a running joke among the crew team that Jan likes Juri. Jan becomes fearful and anxious when he first learns that he causes his teammates so much amusement and he continues on that way for several weeks, going through practice like a dead man, unable to look anyone in the eye.

But not everyone on the team is truly mean-spirited and not everyone enjoys having Jan laughed at.

"Hey, coxswain." Jan sighs as he hears the familiar call.

"Yeah?" he asks gruffly, not bothering to look over his shoulder at Frank. It is just what Jan wants, one of _his_ rowers making fun of him. "Do you need something? The boats're put away; you can go home."

Jan stiffens at the feel of Frank's hand on his arm.

"Hey," Frank says again, softer this time. "It's not all that bad. They just do it to bug you."

Jan's nostrils flare angrily and he shakes his arm out of Frank's grasp. He flicks his eyes at the tall brunette.

"So what? It's still fucking stupid."

Frank grabs Jan and in seconds he finds himself in the rower's arms, being rocked slightly back and forth while Frank holds his neck and back. Jan's body goes rigid but Frank does not let go, simply clasps Jan tighter. It is comforting and Jan relaxes against Frank, his face pressed against Frank's strong chest. He can feel- not hear, _feel_\- Frank's heartbeat. It is slow and strong, and Jan feels so good standing there with Frank holding him. For a small time, Jan imagines that it is Juri holding him. That fantasy fades, though, once Jan realizes it's Frank, everything from the wonderful smell of his cologne to his shirt against Jan's cheek to his slow exhalations marking him as someone completely different.

"It bothers you a lot, doesn't it?" Frank asks in a voice so quiet Jan knows no one else can hear it. That in itself sends a delicious shiver through him. Someone is hugging him, someone is _touching_ him, and, for once, there is no doubt in Jan's mind that someone other than Timo actually likes him.

"Doesn't it?" Frank asks again when Jan does not answer, the coxswain too mind-blown by Frank's presence to process his words. "Doesn't it?" Frank asks, tilting Jan's chin up with a long finger. Jan stares up into the most brilliant blue eyes he has ever seen, so much bluer than even David's, and blinks. Frank smiles at him and hugs him tightly.

"Yes," Jan whispers, feeling like those blue eyes are sucking him in somehow. There is a feeling in his chest like what Jan feels for Juri, except different, completely different because Frank's nothing like Juri. Juri's flawless, taller, and stronger, with eyes that are never, ever tinged red by smoke. Frank, and Mäx, too, because outside of this one moment now, they are one and the same to him, two of a horrible, delinquent kind that Jan wants nothing to do with, represents everything Jan has always been against.

For now, though, Jan does not care. He forgets Juri because Frank's holding him close and Frank is talking to him and Frank's actually giving a damn that Jan's right here wanting him. Jan is suddenly, painfully aware that he's falling for Frank.

It shatters something inside him, that revelation does. How can he be in love with Juri if he likes Frank? Jan's dreams are ruined. Juri cannot be his soul mate if Frank is this attractive, this sinfully, handsomely attractive and kind, so kind, caring for him when everyone else just wants to laugh at him. Juri is not the One and Jan is more alone than even a minute before. And it sucks.

ØØØ

That embrace, that moment where Frank was holding him, changes something in Jan's relationship with the rower. Over the next week, Frank talks to him more and more, even staying after practice to walk with Jan over to the convenience store by David's house.

It is nice having someone actually pay attention to him, Jan thinks, though Frank is more scatterbrained than Jan had suspected. His words blend and disappear as he talks, as though he has marbles in his mouth, and Jan has little clue what the guy is saying. Frank is not high by the end of practice (he and Mäx are strictly forbidden from lighting up around the boats as are all of the regular smokers) but he is hardly coherent.

Partly, it's because of his accent. Frank is a southerner. He moved from Heidelberg the year before and still retains the distinctive sh to his ch's that some of the girls on the team laugh about. Jan laughed, too, to himself.

That was before he heard Frank sing.

Frank's voice blows Jan's mind. It is soft, faintly haunting, and completely different from David's voice, that last quality alone being enough for Jan to fall in love with it. It is so effortless and happy, unlike Timo's angry raps and acerbic lyrics. Frank sings lyrics to songs Jan has never heard and it's charming to listen to as they walk.

Frank is so nice that Jan quickly forgets that he is not supposed to like the pothead. He actually listens to what Jan has to say and asks questions when he does not understand. When Frank talks, Jan cannot help the buzzing in his chest. He loves listening to the rower, loves learning about all the people and places Frank has seen, what Heidelberg looks like, what Frank does in his spare time. It is interesting that Frank so rarely talks about Mäx. Jan had thought they were glued at the hip. He is learning, though, that that is so far from the truth it is not funny. Mäx goes to school with Frank, Mäx smokes with Frank, Mäx rows with Frank, and that is it. They have little in common, it seems.

It makes every time Frank does talk about Mäx that much more interesting. Mäx, it turns out, is a figure from Jan's past, someone he had completely forgotten. It had been nagging at him for the first few weeks since they had been introduced, a question at the back of Jan's mind that he could not resolve. They used to go to church together, he realizes eventually, and would see each other once a week in Sunday School when Jan's mother still thought religion was important. Mäx, it is safe to say, has changed a lot since then.

ØØØ

Jan and Frank are sitting together after practice on the curb by the sidewalk, talking. Jan is not going to meet Timo today because his mom is coming to pick him up. Frank decides to wait with him while Mäx talks with Coach.

They get to talking about their families or, rather, about Jan's family and how his parents divorced when he was ten and how now he lives with his mom because his dad has moved away and is not coming back. Frank is reluctant to talk about his own family. Jan suspects at first Frank does not want to make him feel bad with stories about how happy they are but he quickly learns that he is horribly wrong. Frank's home life might include two parents and a marriage but there is little love going on there.

"Oh, it's great having your parents look at you in disappointment," Frank says sadly. "It's absolutely wonderful to have them critique you for everything you are and everything you do. They say your clothes are wrong, the way you walk is wrong, the way you talk is wrong. Every last little thing is wrong and there's nothing you can do to make them change their minds."

"Shit," Jan says, glancing over at him. Frank smiles grimly and tosses a rock into the water. It skips twice before disappearing into the murky river.

"S'okay. I don't have it as bad as Mäx. You know his uncle's the minister of a church, right?"

Jan nods.

"We used to go to Sunday School together. I don't go that often anymore but my mom still goes most Sundays."

Frank grins.

"Yeah, I know. Mäx's mentioned it a couple of times."

A shot of awesome energy hits Jan's heart. Mäx remembers him? Years have passed since they were both little enough to be in class together and Jan has not thought about Mäx in the intervening years. The day he had walked in on Mäx carrying oars over his shoulder two weeks into practice when Jan has finally remembered had been an odd shock; he was someone he had thought had disappeared completely, someone who had left and continued his life somewhere far away. Mäx has never treated him as anything more than his coxswain and teammate. Jan doubts he remembers.

But for Frank to have known something so trivial about the two of them…Mäx must have remembered. And for Mäx to have remembered means that Jan means something to him. It is an odd revelation, disturbing and thrilling at the same time.

"Anyway-"Frank's voice breaks in. "If you don't mind-"  
"Go on."

Frank grins and plunges into his story.

"So anyway, his uncle's the minister of this huge church. His parents are really religious, too. I guess they always planned on him studying theology and going into the church, and Mäx didn't want that. It just wasn't for him."

"What's he planning on doing?" Jan asks.

"He's trying to get a rowing scholarship to an American school. Coach says he has a real chance, especially if he learns to row port as well as he rows starboard. His rhythm's great, his erg time's 1:28, and he's got the drive to go far. If he keeps improving, he'll have a chance at nationals. His parents are completely against it, though. They want him to quit crew and go to Universität Hamburg."

"There a reason we're talking about me?" Mäx asks. Frank tilts his head back and smiles impishly at his friend.

"Because I'm madly in love with you and can't bear keeping the news from the world."

Mäx rolls his eyes.

"Budge over, lover boy." He looks at Jan, then back at Frank. Jan is surprised and more than a bit confused when Frank nods.

"What's up, man?" Mäx asks Jan. "Your family giving you shit for being gay?"

"What?!" Jan yelps, staring at Frank, horrified. "How did you…? Why…?"

"Like it wasn't obvious." Mäx smiles lazily as he watches Jan's blush deepen. "Boy, you've been staring at Juri like he was a side of meat since the second you met him. I say give it up already; the guy's as straight as they come."

"Thanks for ruining all his dreams, Mäx," Frank says but he is grinning like it is a joke. Mäx shoves him and then the two are laughing.

"I can make all his dreams come true if coxswainboy wants me to," Mäx retorts. Frank's smile fades. Jan looks from Frank to Mäx, not sure what is going on.

"Anyway," Mäx says, addressing Jan. "I was gonna offer you a ride since you've been waiting here a while."

"My mom's going to pick me up," Jan says quickly, his voice thin and a bit higher than normal from embarrassment. "Thanks, though."

"Naw, come on, man. You can call your mom; tell her Mäx is taking you home. It's all good." Jan does not glance at Frank, who has become stiff. Frank is glaring at Mäx. Jan does not see him as he is too focused on Mäx.

"Oh, cool! Yeah, that'd be great." Jan bounces up from the curb and heads off with Mäx. He turns back to wave at Frank but the rower is already walking away. Jan frowns, turning back to Mäx. "She was supposed to be here ages ago," he continues. "I don't know what's keeping her. Really, though, thanks for the ride."

Mäx smiles and dips his head as he gets into the car, his blonde curls falling into his face. He leans over to unlock the passenger side door and Jan bounds in.

"Like I said, it's all good."

They drive off.

ØØØ

The next week, it is as though Frank and Jan had never talked. Frank is quiet and he avoids meeting Jan's eyes even when Jan simply asks him to grab an oar or to help bring the launch in. Jan is confused and strangely hurt by his actions. He wonders what he did to make Frank turn away from him so quickly. Hadn't they been getting along?

Everything feels so transient.

Oddly, Mäx starts paying attention to Jan. He smiles at him and follows his requests up with 'yessir's' and 'got it's' which he never did before. Frank's rejection becomes less painful as Mäx acts more and more pleasant, Jan not noticing that the two's friendship has become strained.

It starts to make sense a few weeks later when, after practice, Mäx invites Jan over to his friend's house. Mäx actually likes him, of that Jan is absolutely sure. You don't invite people you don't like over to play video games.

ØØØ

They are standing on Mäx's friend's doorstep, waiting for someone to answer the door. The excitement has been building in Jan's chest for hours, days really, if he thinks about when Mäx first asked him if he wanted to go over to "Jo's house". Jan has never met Jo. Whoever he is, he is not a rower and he never went to their church. Jan is not afraid of Jo not liking him because Mäx would not take him to meet someone he would not like, would he? Jan is on the verge of making a new friend, he just knows it.

"Mäx!"

Jan blinks in confusion at the sudden flash of bright color and energy that meets them when the door opens. A tiny brown-haired boy grins gleefully up at him. He is clad in a painful, ludicrous outfit, neon green pants and a purple hoodie covered in butterflies.

Mäx laughs and hugs the little energy ball before grabbing his shoulders and turning him to face Jan.

"We have a guest," Mäx tells him. The boy grins even wider and thrusts his hand out to Jan.

"M'name's Fabi Halbig," he says in a fast jumble as he bounces happily up and down. "Has Mäx kissed you yet?"

Jan chokes on his spit. A much taller version of Fabi comes up behind him and grabs the side of Fabi's head, pulling him under his arm. Fabi squirms against his brother and scowls up at him.

"Don't take it personally, he asks everyone that," the taller brunette says. "He's just bored and wants something to talk about." He sticks his hand out as well, keeping the other firmly fixed on Fabi's head. Fabi squirms against him. "Who're you?"

Mäx snorts.

"Jan, this is Jo. Jo, Jan." Jo raises an eyebrow at Mäx.

"Is he a coxswain?" Fabi asks excitedly, finally managing to wrangle himself away from Jo. When Mäx didn't immediately answer, he tries again. "Does he do crew, too?"

"Fabi, go do something," Jo orders, ignoring his brother's unhappy complaints.

"So you're the coxswain," Jo says, looking Jan up and down. "You're certainly the right height for the job. We're planning on getting Fabi in as a coxswain if he doesn't reach his growth spurt by the time he's old enough to join the team. You like it?"

Jan nods.

"That's good."

Fabi is bouncing with joy when the three of them join him in front of the television, a video game controller in one hand and three sitting next to him. He grins at Jan as broadly as at Mäx and his brother, not a smidge of irony in his expression.

Jan feels easy around the little brunette and sits down next to him, taking a controller from him as Fabi starts chattering away about whatever game he is starting up on the console. Jan has played video games a few times before, at David's house, and he's fairly good at it. He is not clumsy with the controls like Timo is, fumbling over the many brightly colored buttons as David crows in his ear.

Timo's family doesn't have the money for video games. He does not have money for a lot of things, actually, including lunch most days since his mom lost her last job. The luxury of David's house and David's things sickens Jan on some level but the thrill of the bright lights and the cartoon characters on the television screen delights him on another. He settles into the game easily, happily because there are friends around him, people who care, people like Mäx who aren't so fucking obsessed with their 'best friend', their goddamn best friend that Jan can never, ever be, that they can't give him the time and attention he so desperately wants and needs.

Maybe things are finally changing for Jan.

ØØØ

Jan starts spending a lot of time with Mäx, Jo, and Fabi. He's incredibly happy when he learns that Mäx plays guitar and not the little plucking of a beginner but well, better than Timo and as good as David but with a different style that Jan's only ever heard in American music. Jo plays as well and he sings but he's nothing like David, obsessive, nitpicky David who cares only about what he writes and he plays and he thinks. Jo listens to what Mäx and Fabi, too, and he doesn't tell Jan to hush when he has a suggestion.

But Fabi is the standout in the group. He's only thirteen but he has a life and a spirit that never fades. He loves everything and hates nothing, and is so enthusiastic about everything Jo and Mäx, and now Jan, too, say. Jan feels like a big brother to him before long, he makes sure to tell the shy coxswain. Fabi really seems to enjoy his company and Jan likes him a great deal.

Jan's mild attraction to Mäx is growing stronger with every afternoon spent together and every race rowed with him at the bow. Jan imagines running his hands through Mäx's soft curls; he imagines touching Mäx and he imagines kissing the rower in the dark shadows of the boathouse when no one's watching. He imagines having a real boyfriend in Mäx, someone who is actually his friend first and his lover second.

Jan's interest in Juri is not diminishing but the candle he holds for Juri has burned down to a blackened wick in the center of a vast pool of molten wax. It burns so well and so strongly but, if Juri continues to ignore Jan's interest, and, if Juri cannot return that interest, Jan will not pour the stifling wax out. He will let the flame die out in his own desire. Mäx is a new candle, a new chance to have happiness in a limited candelabrum of homosexuality. Mäx, unlike Juri, is capable of understanding and returning Jan's desire for male companionship.

ØØØ

They get together swiftly both in time and in action. There is no finesse to Mäx's kissing but Jan does not complain. He has no experience to compare Mäx to, no one else who he has ever so much as experimented with.

Jan thinks there should be more to their relationship than quick gropes and kisses. He wants Mäx to say something, to give him some definite promise that Mäx really cares about him, but Mäx does not like to hold him or kiss him gently. Jan wonders if this is the way it is with all guys. He wonders if he is just a weak, little girl inside and that is why Mäx does not do all the things he wants.

Or maybe it is Jo. Jan hates him, though he will not say anything about him, not to Mäx at least. Jo is perfect to Mäx, Jo is everything Jan is not, Jo can do no wrong. If Jan complains about Mäx spending the weekends with Jo instead of with him, Mäx brushes it off, saying a guy has every right to spend time with his friends. Jan agrees with him every time, says he is sorry for mentioning it, and that he will see Mäx at practice on Monday. Then he spends the weekend alone, too upset to call Timo up because Jo is David all over again.

Jan just wants someone to care about him the way Timo cares for David and the way Mäx cares for Jo. Why, he wonders late at night, can't he find someone like that?

But then the weekend ends and Mäx is with him again in those stolen moments of practice that Jo can't ever cut in on. Mäx is there, laughing and happy, and they are together, even if it's only with the rest of the team. They make out before and after practice, sometimes in the bathrooms, too, and Jan tells himself that everything is okay, that this weekend will be different, that this time Mäx will want to hang out with him instead of Jo.

It never happens. Mäx gives him an excuse. He and Jo have plans, Jo needs to get some new clothes, Jo wants to see some movie and it would be weird if Jan went along, you know?

Yes, you're right. Don't worry about it; I've got plans, too. It's a lie and a bad one but Jan does not want Mäx to think he's needy and obsessive. He can spend those three days without Mäx; he's got things to do other than hang out with his boyfriend.

Mäx never questions Jan anyway.

ØØØ

"Here, try this," Jo says, grinning at Jan as he hands him the joint. Jan doesn't want to, he hates the smell that clings to Mäx's clothes but, shit, it's Jo asking him and he can't refuse. Jan can't let Mäx know how much he detests Jo, how much he wants to punch the asshole in the face and tell him to get the fuck away from his boyfriend. It would only make things worse.

He takes the joint from Jo, pinching his fingers in imitation of the older boy. Jo laughs in his face, turning to tell Mäx how pathetic and ridiculous his boy toy looks. Mäx laughs and Jan gets angry. He puts the joint to his lips and sucks the smoke in hard to prove that he isn't what Jo says he is.

At first, he feels nothing, just the familiar burning in his lungs like when he smokes a cigarette. Jan is up to three cigarettes a day, smoking at least two with Mäx after practice and one on his own when he walks home from Jo's house, Mäx almost never remembering to offer him a ride. Gradually, he begins to feel light headed and relaxed, two things he rarely feels when he is around Jo.

Then he starts giggling. Jan feels ridiculous but Mäx is smiling his lazy smile and now Jo is, too. Everything feels loose. It's nice, even if he can't stop giggling. Suddenly Jo doesn't seem like such a jerk, he's a regular guy, a bit uptight and sarcastic but he's fun. Everyone's fun…

ØØØ

Jan does not have a good reason why he agreed to come to the crew party. He is the coxswain of two of the team's most successful boats but, still, he's just the coxswain. He is no one big, in physical size or importance and he's never completely sure of his purpose outside of the boathouse.

It is true that Mäx, his boyfriend of a few weeks, is going to be there as well but once they get to the party, they separate. Mäx went off to find his friends and a cup of beer, and Jan has slunk into a corner where no one will really notice him. He is trying to stay out of everyone's way but drunk and giddy couples are stumbling everywhere and there is not two minutes when Jan is not face to ass with someone he would rather not be so close to.

Jan is watching Mäx from across the room, not because he thinks Mäx is going to do something stupid (he knows for a fact that Mäx will) but because Jo came along with them.

It is not the first time Jo has done it but it is still irritating to Jan. He has Mäx against the wall, talking to his friend in quiet tones that only they can hear and looking around every few minutes surreptitiously like there is something he is trying to hide from Jan.

It is so obvious to Jan that Jo wants to be with Mäx. Every word Jo utters and every gesture he makes practically scream possession to Jan, and he wonders why Mäx cannot see that Jo wants himself in and Jan out. It is just like Timo and David: Jan is the outsider, the intruder trying to steal one of the best friends away. And just like Timo never seems to notice and David never seems to leave off, so Jo lingers around Mäx, the rower oblivious to the want pooling in Jo's heart.

Jan is starting to feel sick and he sets his cup down, heading off to find someone he does not know- that being almost everyone- to dance with. A couple of dances and he will forget that Jo hates him and that Mäx does not really love him, cannot love him because Jo already holds that spot within him just like David owns Timo. _It's not Mäx's fault,_ he tells himself. _He didn't choose to like Jo more than me. Jo was there first. It makes sense. It makes sense._

He bumps into people, most of them not noticing him because they are so much taller. He finds the throng of people dancing in the living room, music pounding from shoddy speakers, a bad mix of unimaginative heavy rap and low-quality R&amp;B pounding into his already aching chest.

The dancing is enjoyable and easy, and Jan lets his mind go blank. He dances with girls he does not know, a few times sandwiched between them as they rock against each other. Jan is not aroused, not even a little bit, and the boredom and dull ache of dealing with his boyfriend's jealous best friend sets back in. He is lost, unable to decide what to do about Jo, when a hand grabs his upper arm.

"You're not looking so good," Juri yells into his ear. "You should probably go outside for a bit. Come on."

Jan frowns, wondering what the stroke is doing and why Christina is not on his arm. The party is open to all the rowers and any friends they want to bring with them, that being the reason fucking Jo is there, ruining Jan's night.

"Come on," Juri says again. "Let's get you out of here."

He tugs Jan with him out of the room and into the backyard, which is scattered with drunken couples flirting and stoners lighting up. Juri's nostrils twitch at the smell of weed and Jan is a bit uncomfortable to realize that the smell does not bother him at all. Between Mäx and Frank, Jan has long since gotten used to it, even to the point of getting excited when he smells the distinct scent because it means Mäx is nearby. The jacket Jan sleeps with, the one he borrowed from Mäx and never gave back, reeks of the stuff.

Jan's confusion over Christina's absence is dispelled when he sees her curvy form and crimped hair moving through the crowd inside. She follows them outside and within minutes, she is sitting next to Jan on the bricks rubbing his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" she says loudly over the din of the party. Jan nods shakily, realizing suddenly that he is dehydrated and a little lightheaded.

"Here," she says, handing him a thankfully unopened water bottle. Jan is not above believing some of the drinks inside are doctored or that the alcohol content in the unspiked drinks would be enough to warp his thinking pretty quickly. "Did you come here with someone?" Christina asks, her breath surprisingly clean and free of alcohol residue. He wants to hate her so badly but she is being too nice about it for him to really want her to leave him alone.

"Yeah," Jan croaks as he tries to untwist the cap to the water. Juri's lips twitch and he grabs the bottle from Jan, twisting the cap off before handing it back to him. Jan grimaces his thanks and takes a sip.

"You need more than that," Christina says, tilting the bottle up so that it pours into Jan's mouth. He chokes and ends up spraying most of the liquid over his shoes, wheezing as he tries to breathe. "Sorry," Christina says contritely. "I didn't realize that'd happen. So who're you here with? You should really get on home before you get sick from all of-" She waves her hand in the general direction of the party. "-this."

Jan swallows, looking at Juri from under lidded eyes.

"I came with my friend."

"You could be a little more helpful," Christina admonishes. Jan wishes she would stop talking. Juri is just standing there looking at him and it's making everything worse. "Who?" Christina insists.

"My boyfriend, alright?" Jan snaps weakly. "Mäx."

"Mäx from the four?" Juri asks. Jan nods.

Christina clicks her tongue and looks at Juri.

"Well, hell. I wouldn't trust Mäx with getting _himself_ home." Anger floods through Jan and he glances away from her. Who is she to talk about his boyfriend like that? Sure, Mäx is a bit of a free spirit but he would not hurt Jan, and he isn't even high tonight. Yet. "You can come with us," Christina announces, taking Jan by the wrist. He gets up slowly, cursing Juri's girlfriend for her strength. He does not want to go anywhere with _her_ tonight, talking about his boyfriend like Mäx's a piece of trash.

"Come on, coxswain," Juri rumbles. Jan sucks on his teeth, not willing to look at the man he's still got a rather strong flame for. "I'll leave a message on Mäx's phone telling him we took you home so he doesn't worry."

Jan smiles. Maybe this won't turn out so bad. Honestly, if Jan tells himself the complete truth, riding in Juri's car, even for ten minutes, is a lot more satisfying than falling asleep with Mäx's hoodie.

"Thank you," he mutters as he settles into the backseat. Jan cannot meet Christina's eyes, not when he is in the back of Juri's car, sitting behind her and so deathly uncomfortable to be anywhere near her when her claim to Juri is so apparent.

ØØØ

"Jan?" Timo asks in surprise. "What're you doing here?"

Jan glances at him for a second before looking back at his shoes. He is sitting on Timo's doorstep which is suspect enough and now Timo is staring down at him.

"Can I come in? I don't want to go home right now," Jan says quietly.

"Yeah, sure," Timo says, stepping back and opening the door for Jan. Jan gets up from his depressed crouch, the back of his legs stinging from the cold bricks. He walks inside and sits down on Timo's couch.

"Mom's not home," Timo says as he pulls two Fanta bottles out of the refrigerator. "And Rose is out with her latest boyfriend."

Jan says nothing. He stares at the wall as though he does not hear Timo at all.

"Jan."

"What?!"

"What's wrong with you? You show up at my house at two in the fucking morning, smelling like pot and beer, and expect me not to notice? What's going on, man?"

"Nothing."

"Bullshit."

"Fuck off, Timo. You don't give a damn what happens to me!"

"I just let you in my fucking house! The least you could do is _talk_ to me."

"Since when do you care? With you, it's always David, David, David. No, you're wrong, this is the way David does it," Jan snaps, glaring up at Timo. "No, that's not right, David says this. David this and David that; David fucking everything! There's never a break with you."

"That's not true-"

"Of course it's fucking true. David's the first thing you think about and the first person you mention, and I'm sick of it! Why do you even pretend to be my friend?"

"How can you say that?" Timo asks in disbelief. "I'm not your friend but I let you inside at weird hours of the day. I'm not your friend but I worry about you spending all your time with potheads and lowlifes who only want to use you-"

"Mäx isn't using me! We're dating, you idiot!"

Timo sneers.

"He's using you. He wants to turn you into a stoner just like him. And, anyways, how come you can't tell me when you're obsessing over some guy I've never met? How come I have to find out from someone else that you're head over heels for Juri? That's shit, Jan."

Jan stills, his heart stopping as his eyes widen in fear.

"Who told you about Juri?" he asks softly, his voice cool and deadly calm. Timo's cheek twitches and he looks suddenly nervous under Jan's frightening gaze.

"Someone on the crew team," he says, his voice uneven.

"Who?" Jan asks. "Are you following me, checking up on all my other friends, asking everyone you can about me?"

"No, it's not like that," Timo says, raising his hands to guard himself. Jan stands up, using the sudden height difference to his advantage. Timo does not seem nearly as tall now that Jan is standing up.

"Then what's it like?" Jan hisses.

"I'm just worried about you, alright?" Timo yells. "You're changing so fast and you're becoming someone I don't recognize. The Jan I know didn't do drugs and he certainly didn't go out to parties without telling anyone. You realize your mom called me twice tonight asking where you were? I had to tell her I didn't know because you sure as hell didn't tell me. Since you joined this crew team, you've been getting farther and farther away. All you ever talk about anymore is crew and rowing."

"Why should I tell you where I go?" Jan counters. "All you care about is David. You don't care about me."

"Yes, I do, Jan! That's what I'm trying to tell you. It's you who's pushing me away not me."

"Because you only ever talk about David! You spend every waking moment with him and when you two're apart it's David, David, David!"

"Did you ever think maybe I hang out with him because he actually treats me like a human being?" Timo says, his voice losing its volume. "He doesn't make me feel like shit. He doesn't say things that make me feel like an idiot because I can't even begin to understand them. David doesn't make me feel like I'm worthless and stupid like you do. He actually likes my music and he helps me when I have problems and he encourages my ideas. You always think of something better or tell me that my lyrics are stupid or that I don't know what I'm talking about.

Jesus Christ, Jan, I've known David since we were little kids. I've had a lot longer to get to know him. Sometimes I do talk about him more than I should but it's because I want to include you in what we do. But you just don't care.

Music's stopped being important to you but it hasn't changed for me. Rapping and playing the guitar are two things I'm actually good at and, unlike you, David doesn't try to upstage me. He doesn't care that I'm not as good at him; he just wants me to keep trying. You just want to tell me I'm wrong and that nothing I do matters because there's a better way of doing it.

You and David mess around with the software on his computer for hours. You never try to tell me what you're doing so is it really all that hard to believe that I listen to David when he explains it to me?

Do you know how much it hurts David that you don't like him, Jan? You're so good at what you do and David wants so badly to be friends with you but you won't let him in. You push him away, you stop listening to him when he's talking. You're off in your own little world anymore and no one can reach you.

So don't tell me I don't care, Jan, because I fucking do."

Jan looks at Timo, stunned by his friend's words. He sits back down on the couch and covers his eyes with his hands, too floored to say anything. Timo lets out a harsh, shaky breath and sits down next to him.

"I- I didn't know you thought that," Jan says, peering at Timo from the cracks in his hands.

"I didn't really know either," Timo admits, letting out a shaky laugh. "It just sort of came out."

"Can you tell me this at least? Who told you about Juri?"

Timo smiles and flicks Jan in the neck with his thumb and forefinger.

"Some guy named Frank. He lives up the street from David. He's a singer actually, a damn good one, too, from what I've heard. You know him?"

"Yeah, kind of."

"Kind of?" Timo says. The nastiness is not fully gone from his voice but it is certainly not as plain to hear as it was before. Jan relaxes somewhat. "Kind of? Jan, from what Frank's been telling David, it's more than kind of. Frank rows in your boat and he sees you every day at practice. Your job-" Timo laughs. "Your job is to boss him around, right?"

Jan shrugs.

"Juri does those things, too. How do you know there's any difference between them?" Jan says.

Timo looks aggrieved. Jan looks at him, not blinking. They stare at each other as though in contest until Jan finally looks away, blinking rapidly to clear his eyes.

"Why couldn't you tell me about Juri?" Timo asks.

"I didn't think you cared. I've got a crush on him. You don't tell me about every little crush you have, Timo. I just, you know, didn't say anything. It wasn't going anywhere."

"Uh, yeah, I do," Timo says, an annoyed look crossing his face. He forces Jan to look at him, the little blonde desperate to look anywhere else. Timo finally grabs the back of his neck and brings their foreheads together. He stares at his second best friend in cooled anger, searching Jan's sapphire-blue eyes for the answers he wants. Finding no answer in the depths of Jan's irises- Timo does not truly expect to suddenly develop the ability to read eyes (was that a real ability? Timo did not know.)- Timo lets him go with a deep sigh. He turns and flings his arms out in exasperation. Jan stays rooted to the spot.

"Right," Timo sighs. "Of course, you're not going to tell me anything. Why would you?"

ØØØ

It is not immediately after that party that Jan starts falling away from Mäx but it is soon enough afterwards that even Timo notices. Jan stops spending time at Mäx's house so that he does not have to see Jo's glares or hear his back-handed comments.

They eventually call it off when their relationship fades to occasional visits and more time spent rowing then cuddling. Jan is…surprised to find how little his heart hurts. Your first love is supposed to last forever. This is a thought Jan has every day as he tries to understand why he doesn't care so much. Maybe he has misunderstood and first love does not mean your first boyfriend. Maybe that first is the first person you find attractive. Jan does not really know. He just sits in the bow and steers the boat, spending more time noticing Juri's muscles than he even thinks about Mäx in two days' time. Jan hopes somewhat that Mäx is just as unmoved. He does not want to feel guilty for ending their relationship, seeing as Mäx would have been happier all along with Jo.

Mäx is not with Jo now. That is part of what confuses Jan so much. It is plain to him and Fabi, and most likely everyone else around the two friends, that they want to be together. So why do not they get together? Why does Mäx even try dating other people while Jo is single?

A few weeks later, Jan thinks of Mäx no more often than crew practice. Even there, he sees Mäx as the stern and he only talks about Mäx's progress with Coach, never noticing that it is his ex-boyfriend that he is talking about.

It is about this time that Frank starts acting weirdly towards Jan, more so than ever before. Over the year, especially when Jan and Mäx were dating, Frank has grown farther and farther apart from Mäx. Frank comes to practice late all the time now and leaves the moment the boat and stretchers are put away. He rarely says anything to Jan or Mäx. Jan does not expect Frank to answer him when he asks him to give a stroke or to check his oar.

Frank does what is needed and that is it. He comes to practice, gets there exactly when he needs to be there and leaves once everything absolutely necessary is done. Jan has seen him walking home some days, going in the opposite direction and often too far away to call out to. Jan knows now how close by Frank lives to the boathouse. It gives Jan a curious, little thrill when his mother drives by the street David lives on because he knows Frank is not all that far away.

Jan is not sure but he thinks he is falling for Frank. It feels different from how he felt for Mäx, not as strong and forceful but more languid and trusting. Frank is so nice that Jan feels a pang when he does not say goodbye anymore when he leaves practice unless Jan says it first. Then, Frank will turn back and wave, an oddly sad smile on his lips.

Jan does not know what to think now.

ØØØ

Then the year is gone. Summer comes, spring ends, and Jan realizes that Mäx has finished school. They had talked about it when they were still dating, about how the summer would change things depending on whether Mäx earned one of his scholarships or not. Jan knows Coach Breitmann recommended Mäx for several scholarships, sending in his erg race times and his counts. Jan sent out some things, too, for Mäx the rower, not Mäx his ex. Mäx, for all of his problems and all of his inadequacies as a boyfriend, is a great talent. If he took a couple kilos off, he could easily compete at the international levels.

In the end, Jan learns that Mäx has an offer for an American school, somewhere far away, across the Atlantic Ocean. His scholarship will pay the tuition fees. Jan wonders whether Mäx will give up his weed. He is certain Mäx will if he has to. Crew is Mäx's life, his greatest joy and gift.

Jan the coxswain will miss him terribly. Jan the person will not.

"Mäx is leaving tomorrow," Frank says as they watch a golden retriever splash around in the water in front of some rich person's waterfront property. Today is the last day of practice for the school year. There are no races left in the season and they can afford to relax as they wait for the girl's eight to come back in, the guy's four already derigged and sprayed down, dripping on the slings up in front of the boathouse.

"I know," Jan says, looking unconcerned as he lies back against the dock. "I'm going to miss him."

"Are you going with him to the airport to see him off?" Frank asks in a quiet whisper. Jan shakes his head.

"Nah, I'm gonna let Jo do that."

"You over him?"

"As much as I'll ever be. He was good to me but we didn't really click."

"What about Juri? Are you going to try to be with him?" Frank prods. Jan smiles at Frank and moves his hand over to squeeze the rower's hand reassuringly. There is no doubt in Jan's mind what Frank wants his answer to be. Jan wants to be with Frank, too.

They have been building their friendship back up. After Mäx stopped coming to practice, first due to exams and scholarship interviews, now due to his preparations for university, Jan finally began to understand where Frank had been all this time. He had guessed right so many months ago when he had thought of Frank as a potential boyfriend. Frank had been thinking about him, too, wanting him all this time.

Jan thought at first that Frank's friendship with Mäx deteriorated because of him. Now he knows that was not all of it: Frank has changed. He has started to spend his time at voice lessons when he is not at practice and he has given up smoking because of it. Jan is glad he cannot smell the weed around Frank anymore. The smell alone makes him want to vomit now.

"Juri's with Christina and he's straight, completely so. We were never going to be together."

"You never know. Things change."

"He's not worth waiting that long, not when I have you."

"You think we can make this work?" Frank asks, hope shining in his sapphire eyes.

"I'm willing to try."

The summer sun sets in front of them, the long, orange rays glinting off the brackish water.


	2. Part 2

The summer after Mäx leaves is warm, unusually so. Of course, Jan has never spent a summer at rowing camp, or any camp for that matter, and so is unused to the tepid water and humid, mosquito-filled water.

Not all of the crew team comes along but, with Frank, Iona, and Juri there as good friends and company, Jan is not too worried. There are people he has never met, boys and girls much younger than he is. Jan is to teach them the basics of rowing and to help them perfect their form. He does this midday, well after his team's five a.m. practice, and before they go out on the water again at three. The girls are easy to teach, Jan learns, and flexible both in mind and body; the boys groaning when he asks them to extend their reach. It is amusing and frustrating but Jan loves it. He is in control, right there teaching the small preteens how to row.

One boy in particular shows incredible promise. He is fast, strong, and he listens to everything Jan says, which, considering Jan is their coach, is a blessed gift. Johannes is short, though no one worries because he has not hit puberty yet. Jan is hoping Johannes will grow another meter or so by next summer when he turns fourteen, the minimum age for the team.

In the late afternoon, Frank takes Jan out on the water to teach him to scull. Sometimes they go out in the two–man scull and sometimes they go out in singles. The single is easier to row and control but having no one watching his back makes Jan liable to run into the little islands of reeds and sand, where the worst worry is backstroking which Jan has yet to master. To backstroke in a scull, you have to reverse the normal slide and push forward with both oars. The oars in a scull are shorter and thinner than those for the fours and the eights and so require much more strength to execute a proper and functional stroke. Jan has managed to beach himself at least once a session. It amuses Frank and Juri, the two of them chuckling while Iona calls out helpful instructions. The problem with the singles is that it is nigh impossible for them to pull Jan out of the reeds without risking flipping one of the boats.

Jan has already had that experience and he is not keen on repeating it. The lake that the camp surrounds is freshwater and filled with tadpoles, snakes, and floating bits of things no one ever bothers to name because it is all disgusting.

Jan finds every day that he loves the camp more and more. He has never spent a long time away from home and certainly not without some family member around. Having his boyfriend here makes it all the more exciting.

ØØØ

Jan smiles and leans back into Frank's embrace. He is tucked into Frank's side, warm and cozy in the cool night air. They are sitting around the fire, a shallow charcoal pit lined with smooth stones. Juri is slowly feeding the fire whilst Iona and Lara poke sticks into the coals, trying to stir it up higher.

Tonight, it is inordinately chilly. The breeze coming down from the mountains sweeps through the high cliffs and twists down over the lake's surface, blowing white-crested waves against the sandy shore. The fire pit isn't far off. From the other side of the lake, it is easy to spot the small group of rowers and the racks of tied-down boats hidden back among the trees. It is a mercy the lake is freshwater. The team would have to spend hours properly washing and drying the boats otherwise and still be concerned with the possibility of salt contamination and erosion. Instead, it takes less than a half hour to spray the boats off and leave them out to dry. Any sand that clings to the boat falls off onto the ground from the slings as the boat dries clean.

Frank blows out a soft breath behind Jan's ear. Jan shivers delightfully and smiles under Frank's kiss. Frank nibbles at the curve of Jan's ear, making the little coxswain giggle and gasp as the nibbling turns into close nips and slow sucking at that sweet spot just under Jan's ear.

Lara giggles at something Iona whispers to her, the two tittering away behind their hands. Jan glances their way, embarrassed but then Frank is stroking his arm comfortingly. Jan relaxes happily, tilting his head up. Frank kisses the long column of his neck, pressing a fond line down it, and Jan forgets everything else.

ØØØ

The summer ends in storms, loud, thunderous affairs that stop outdoor practice for weeks on end until the water is calm enough for rowing. The erg machines become the focus of every practice. Run through the neighborhood for twenty minutes, and then come inside the boathouse and erg two thousand meters. Everyday practicing to improve erg times.

The boathouse is cool, a welcome respite from the erg training. Jan checks the equipment regularly. He ergs along with his rowers, going at it as intensely as they do, though his strength is nothing against Juri's or even Lara's. Still, it is far better than the novices.

"Gather round," Lars calls out, catching his team's attention. They move to surround him, shading their eyes from the sun to look at him with curious eyes.

"What's up, Coach?" Iona asks. Lars is quiet as he waits for everyone's attention. Rowers shift back and forth nervously, calculating what they could have done and whether there's trouble ahead. Lars seems calm as always.

"Alright, you all remember the storm last week?" Lars announces, his voice carrying sonorously throughout the boathouse. "It seems that Guillard's boathouse was affected badly. The roof fell in and there was considerable damage to the racks and the general structure of the building. Several oars were destroyed and much of their equipment and supplies were stolen." A few rowers nod. Theft is a major problem in the area due to school age children and the homeless. The children steal out of greed and for general amusement; the homeless out of necessity. The communal bathrooms are locked along with the boathouses when the teams and clubs are gone because, more than once, homeless people have been found sleeping on the floor and taking showers in the bathrooms. Sometimes there's urine on the floor and waste in the showers. It's not out of hatred or condescension that the rowers act as they do, which is made especially evident in conditions like the recent storm.

"The damage is so severe that they expect it to take several months to repair. In the meantime, Guillard's coach has asked to store their boats here."

"Here?" Franziska echoes. She folded her arms across our chest. "Coach, we have little room to spare. Our racks are full with our own boats. Where do you plan to store another two fours?"

"Two eights," Lars says. "And three fours. The Cuttlefish needs a new bow ball and footrests. I'm sending it and the Dragonfly to be repaired."

There are gasps and protests from the girls. The Dragonfly is the girls' competition four. It has been needing a new fiberglass coating badly. Coach has been putting it off until absolutely necessary.

"Why now?!" Iona snaps. "Coach, you can't expect us to share the guys' four for races!"

"I don't, Iona," Lars says. "The shoes would never fit. You will share Guillard's boat, Il Fortuna. It's a top quality racing boat, far better than anything this team has ever used."

The complaining and bitching does not stop with Lars' words. Guillard has been their competition for the last decade. Hatred of the team is inbred, along with jokes about steroid abuse and "special training". No one wants to see them on a regular basis, regardless of how good their practice methods are. Coach Breitmann seems to think they have something to learn from Guillard.

Franziska, for one, would rather remain ignorant.

"You remember the last time we raced them?" she mutters to her teammates. "And they had the officials change everyone's lanes so that we were two down from where we started? We lost that race because the water condition was so bad!"

"They can't be that bad," Alina, one of the newcomers, puts in. "No one's ever as bad as you think they are. I'm sure Guillard will turn out to be full of decent people."

"Don't be so sure," Franziska mutters darkly.

ØØØ

Franziska turns out to be right. Guillard's rowers, one or two of them aside, are jerks. Jan is constantly forced to redirect traffic onto the dock because Guillard's coxswains are under the belief that their boats are first priority. Jan has to have his rowers drop the boats to waist level and hold them for upwards of twenty minutes while Guillard's rowers ready their boats. He can see the muscles straining on his rowers as Guillard's rowers sneer at him or pointedly look away.

_It's our dock!_ Jan wants to scream. _You're just using it for a couple of months! Can't you at least let us get onto the water first?!_

Storage is only more problems. Guillard does not derig their boats before storage and they consistently take the middle and upper racks for their boats, leaving Jan, Maike, and Hanna, the girl's new coxswain, to store the boats at the lowest racks. With the rigors in place, this results in painfully awkward procedures to extricate and replace their boats. The strain of lifting and lowering the boats to knee level is immense and it is extremely difficult to have one or two of the shorter rowers duck under and hold the boat until they can pull it out. And this happens every day.

Maike quits the team soon after, along with several of the women rowers. The team's numbers drop with every week they share the boathouse with Guillard. Once Hanna quits, Jan finds himself without a possible coxswain. He has the choice of training the lightest rower he has as a coxswain…or asking Guillard to loan him one of their coxswains.

Jan is not looking forward to the day when he has to tell Coach he cannot keep alternating the boats, the guys rowing one day, the girls the next, with no one getting the amount of practice they need. At this rate, they will not even have enough coxswains to row competitively. Jan does not want to bar one boat from competing simply because he cannot be in two places at once.

So he tells Coach Breitmann, who refers him to Guillard's coach, a tolerable lady, if a bit harsh. She, in turn, introduces Jan to Margaux.

Jan twitches uncomfortably under the other coxswain's gaze. She is small with short-cropped blonde hair and cold eyes, her lips curled back in an ugly sneer. She is imposing and her voice is sharp and hoarse as she addresses him.

"So it's the little queen I get to work with," she says nastily. "I hear you're a terrible coxswain. Your team only keeps you because you're screwing the stroke. You'd be off the team otherwise, Werner."

Jan balls his hands into fists and glares at her.

"You don't know the first thing about me, you, you- jerk," he spits out. "I'm the coxswain because I'm good at it, not because I'm sleeping with anyone. Who do you think you are?!"

She smiles coolly.

"My name is Margaux and you better remember it because pretty soon I'm going to be the main coxswain on this team, and I won't be getting there by blowing my teammates," Margaux says. "So you better watch out, Werner, cause 'fore long, you won't be here anymore."

Jan stands there seething, unable to find his words to snap a witty reply back at her. He watches her walk away, humming to herself as though those nasty words had not just come from her mouth. Jan's shaking from anger and confusion. He has never even met this Margaux girl before and yet she already hates him.

"Coxswain?" Iona asks worriedly, coming up to Jan, her brows knit in concern. "What'd she say to you?"

Jan shakes his head and shrugs.

"That she knows my name and she wants me to drop off the face of the earth. Nice things like that."

"That bitch!" Iona snarls. She frowns. "Tell me you didn't say anything stupid back. We don't need Guillard's coxswain to think we're trying to make them feel unwelcome."

"I just told her she was wrong about me being a whore. Does that count?" Jan asks wryly. Iona just looks at him, confused.

"She called you a whore?" Iona asks.

"Basically."

"Come on, then, Jan. We need to get our boats in the water before Guillard starts setting out and blocking the dock. Goodness gracious, yesterday was hell enough for the week."

Jan follows Iona to the boathouse. He calls out to the guys and they shoulder the four, lifting it up and out rapidly. Jan waits less than a second after it is off the racks and clear of the other boats to tell the guys to bring the boat up overhead.

He is proud and relieved to see Lara and several of the other girls snagging oars, and follow them out. Jan moves at a quick pace and they are on the dock before Guillard's eight. Jan has the boat rolled into the water in one smooth stroke. He passes the oars out after picking his way through the eight oars tossed haphazardly on the dock as though the things were worthless as anything more than tripping points.

The oars are in place and almost locked into the riggers when Guillard's eight splashes onto the water on the other side of the dock. Oars are swinging everywhere, hitting Jan and his rowers. Juri curses when he gets smacked in the back of his head. He grabs the oar and shoves it hard back into the rower holding it. The girl shrieks and tips into the eight, falling onto one of her teammates. Jan grins and Georg pushes off the dock, putting quick distance between them and the other team.

Jan sighs in relief when they're down the river, Guillard's eight splashing slowly behind them. Juri's eyes are gleaming and the other rowers are tittering into their oars. Juri's shoulders shake violently with laughter. Jan cannot help it. He begins laughing himself at the ludicrousness of the situation. In all honesty, it is not funny. Juri is so calm normally and for once, he has broken and snapped back at the hazing Guillard's idiot team has been giving him. They are just a bunch of athletes really, bitching about equipment space and launch times like little kids.

Jan will have to report the incident to Coach, of course, before all this blows up and Guillard starts spreading rumors that they tried to overturn the eight. Thank goodness, it was Juri and not Georg who had shoved the girl back. Georg retaliating would be suicide because Georg has an unmatchable temper and dislike towards people who irk him. No one would expect Juri to do something like that, pushing a rower over. Jan just hopes Guillard's rowers remembered that it was Juri who did it.

He has no interest in dealing with Guillard further. The eight is slowly gaining on them, coming closer and closer so that Jan can hear the sweep of their oars through the water. He wrinkles his nose and whispers into his headset. The microphone amplifies it enough that he does not have to worry about the others not hearing. Juri takes up the stroke and rows leisurely. The check is soft and slow, their speed building nicely.

They are at 20spm when Jan hears Margaux, Guillard's female coxswain, bark out an order to her rowers. Jan winces at the tone. He would never talk to his teammates like that, not even in the heat of a race. Partially, it is because the Cox Box carries so well that he never has to scream- loudly, at least- but also because he actually has respect for his teammates and friends. He is not insistent and loud like some coxswains are because he tells them what he needs them to do and when to do it. Screeching only makes Juri rub his shoulder against his ear in pain and irritates all the rowers.

"Bridge," Juri says.

Jan nods and looks up from his set gaze. He adjusts the rudder to set their course straight. They slide under the cool shadow, the starboard oars hitting a crab pot on the way. It's beautiful out, cool with a soft breeze and Jan could almost fall asleep under the warm rays of the sun.

ØØØ

The Jugendruderverein's season goes well. Coach Breitmann puts Jan in as the permanent guys' four coxswain, a post he was already fulfilling but that now is a matter of concession between Guillard and the Ruderverein. With Mäx gone as well as several of the older male rowers, the four has only the skeleton crew of Jan, Juri, and Frank. Paul from Guillard is added to take Mäx's place. He is nowhere near as talented as Mäx but he has the stamina to keep up with Juri and the strength to match the other new rower, Georg.

As with any new team, the first few practices are rocky. Georg has problems with stamina and will often slow down right before the end of a practice race. He is not lazy, certainly nor incapable of maintaining his speed and strength so Jan is not entirely sure why Georg has trouble. Paul seems to have a personal vendetta against the equipment. The footstraps are not tight enough, the rigors are placed wrong, the Cox Box is not loud enough, whine, whine, whine is all Jan hears.

He feels bad, however, for Paul. The guy is alone with a boat of rowers who hate his guts on principal and is forced to obey a coxswain he does not respect, one of the most dangerous things about rowing. If a coxswain for whatever reason does not have the respect of his or her rowers, rowing can be hell. Everything about rowing is about listening to authority and problems often occur with novice coxswains who don't know what exactly they are doing on the water. Fights can break out, especially between the bow and the stern where the coxswain sits, normally beginning as hearing issues due to the Cox Box malfunctioning or the speaker at the bow not turned to the proper volume. Add to that just plain dislike of the coxswain and the entire practice is miserable for all involved.

Eventually, after over three weeks of practice, they get it all together. Jan is glad Juri has his back because it could be problematic if any of his rowers see his relationship with Frank as a favoring system. Sometimes Jan just wants to move Frank into a different boat so his boyfriend does not see him snapping at Paul or yelling at Georg, both of which he has to do as their coxswain. Jan tries to be nicer but there are practices where he gets off the water worried that Frank is going to pick a fight because of something Jan did or said. Frank hasn't yet; in fact, he always seems happy to see Jan. Even at his most tired, Frank will give Jan a sleepy smile and a hug before they leave the boathouses. Frank seems to know most of the time what is on Jan's mind, all his little doubts and frustrations, and he ends up kissing or hugging them away.

ØØØ

Jan gets to practice early one Friday in time to hear the news he has been waiting for, or had been months before everything changed. Juri looks a mess, bags under his eyes and his clothes clinging to his body haphazardly, as though he only managed to drag himself out of bed.

"We broke up," Juri says, looking directly at Jan. He is sitting on the sidewalk, his legs spread far apart and his head hung low in dejection, his hands clasped between his knees.

"Wh-what?" Jan asks. His mind is whirling and his thoughts are slippery and wickedly fast, spinning things he shouldn't be thinking about through his mind.

Juri swallows, his Adam's apple clenching down in a slow descent. Jan stares at it plainly. He grasps for control. He fights with himself to remember that he is in a happy relationship with someone who adores him but in that moment, with Juri looking at him that way and the words Jan has been longing to hear for so long, Jan can barely remember Frank's name. The world is Juri and his handsome, beloved face and those impossible, wonderful words.

"Christina and I broke up," Juri repeats. He frowns and drags his bottom lip through his teeth.

"What happened?" Jan asks. He shoves his hands in his pockets to keep from reaching out to touch Juri's shoulder or arm or- God forbid, his hand. Juri raises his eyebrows, keeping his head at the same dejected level, facing out to the rough, old asphalt parking lot.

It is almost empty. Practice has a long time before starting and there is no reason for Juri to be there. Jan is here to check equipment and to carry in a new case of water bottles. The case stands next to him now. Jan set it down when he saw Juri sitting there on the sidewalk, looking more bored than upset. Except, Juri doesn't get bored. He's got a certain face he gets when he's not paying attention or when he's thinking and Jan would never describe that face as bored. Pissed, maybe, but not bored.

It alarmed Jan when he saw it, that and the fact that Juri's sitting on the sidewalk in front of the boathouses instead of by the door. The loop means he's waiting for someone. It means he wants someone to notice him. Jan's the first one here and there's nothing he wants more in that moment than for Juri to tell him every last thing that is bothering him.

"She got bored and told me she wanted someone new. I'm not exciting enough for her, evidently."

"I'm sorry," Jan says. He scuffs the toe of his shoe on the asphalt, his throat seizing up with anxious glee. Christina is gone, he thinks. She's gone, she's truly gone! Juri's free!

"You need help carrying that in?" Juri asks. Jan blinks. Juri's standing up and grabs at the case, snagging one plastic side and lifting it easily. "I assume this is going inside?"

"Yeah," Jan says. He fishes his keys out of his pocket and heads toward the boathouse. A smile breaks out on his face as Juri takes long strides beside him, the chain on his jeans swinging out and hitting the plastic case with a funny thump. Jan's giddy and he's walking too fast but he can't be made to care because Juri's free and Christina's gone. He can't think of anything else and misses the keyhole by a mile, scraping the paint of the door.

"Need help?" Juri quips. Jan turns and grins at him, the dopiest smile commanding his face.

"Nah, I'm good," he says.

ØØØ

Jan is almost dancing, he is so excited. _Juri's single,_ he thinks, _Juri's single and I'm single and Christina's gone and- oh!_ It is too wonderful to think about. This is his chance to finally get with Juri. Juri will admit all the feelings he has been keeping inside, all the secret affections and fantasies he has entertained about Jan, now that Christina is out of the way. Juri is only upset because the breakup is so new but soon, soon he will admit that he is glad to be rid of her. Today is a great day.

Jan pulls Juri aside after practice when almost everyone has gone home. Frank is hovering around the boathouse for someone Jan does not care about. He does not even wave goodbye to them when they move out to the parking lot; he is too ecstatic over the news.

"I was wondering," Jan says too quickly. He takes a shallow breath and plunges in on the words he has wanted to say for so long. "Would you want to go out with me? Nothing big, just to get something to eat. What do you say?"

Jan pauses, proud of his achievement. He has done it! He has finally asked Juri what he has been meaning to ask him and now Juri will say those words that Jan has rehearsed in his head for so long:

"Aren't you dating Frank?" Juri asks softly. Jan stares at him in confusion. Is this a trick question? Is Juri stalling? Who is Frank?

With the force of a summer storm on the icy North Sea, reality crashes back on Jan. His jaw goes slack as memories of Frank, sweet, handsome, caring Frank, come back to him. He remembers all the times Frank has supported him, has held his hand, has told Jan just how much he cares about him. Jan is everything to Frank and Frank is…

"Oh my God," Jan whispers, his voice growing louder with every word until by the end he is almost yelling. "Oh my God, you're right, you're so right! I- oh my God, what is wrong with me. Frank was just here and I-"

Juri watches him unblinkingly as though he can hear every thought going through Jan's head because it is not just in his words that Jan's horror exists. His brain is suddenly sickeningly full of confusion and revulsion for himself. Jan hates himself, hates how much of a slut he is acting, how completely he has forgotten his _boyfriend_, all because a guy he does not even know to be bisexual has broken up with his girlfriend.

"I like you," Jan says finally, his face burning hotly. He scrambles to find an explanation that will somehow make his stupid words go away. He does not want to lose Frank and now, in a few stupid, stupid words, he has quite possibly done that and Juri, too. Oh God, to lose his friend and his boyfriend all because he could not forgot something he had memorized what seemed like years ago…it was quite simply awful. "I've liked you pretty much since I met you and- I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry, I'm really, really sorry. I was- I mean, you just broke up with her and I tried to-"

"It's okay," Juri says, stressing the last word. He leans down and smiles at Jan, the coxswain blushing furiously and looking away. Juri keeps smiling until Jan cannot resist smiling, too. "I'm not mad at you. I'm not going to lie; I'm a little surprised by what you said but I guess that's more my fault than yours. Look, go home, Jan. We can talk about this later when you've had some time to think about…this."

Jan nods shakily, mutters a goodbye, and walks off quickly. At first, he heads toward David's house but he changes his mind a block away and turns for home. He needs to think and to think for a good long while. How could he have said that? How could he have betrayed Frank like that just because Juri was suddenly single?

And Juri…how could Jan have propositioned him when he was just dumped? Juri had not broken up with Christina; she had dumped him. He had been in a fragile position, grieving for what had been and Jan had come out of nowhere like an idiot.

ØØØ

Out of pure coincidence, Frank goes out with his parents that night. He leaves a message on Jan's cell phone not to call him because his phone will be off all night. Jan could not be more relieved. He cannot talk to Frank now, not after what he has done. Frank will surely dump him for cheating and it will be horrible, the two of them screaming at each other with wild abandon as Frank hurls the most painful words Jan has ever heard at him: I hate you; I never liked you; you're a stupid, ugly dick that I never want to see again; I must have been high to have ever asked you out. Tears trickle down Jan's cheeks in embarrassing rivulets. The pain is too much for him. To have Frank and Juri hate him is the greatest agony he has ever felt.

Juri shows up early on Saturday to use the boathouse. There is no practice since the girls are away at an all female race in Ehndorf and Jan has been given the keys to let any of the rowers in who want to practice. The downside is that he has to be at the boathouse from seven in the morning until noon. Jan sleeps until eight when he hears a knocking on the door.

Juri walks in with his bag, already dressed in his workout clothes. Jan tries to make light of the situation, directing the conversation to the race in Ehndorf, the erg machines, the upkeep of the boats, anything he can think of. Juri is not game. He starts to talk, pauses, and then starts again as a sickening chill sweeps over Jan's body.

"There's something pretty awesome about knowing someone loves you," he says. "Someone other than your parents. You get my drift?"

Jan grimaces.

"You're talking about me. Yeah, I get it. You didn't think it was, you know, creepy?" Jan asks, his fingers digging into the wood of the dock. Juri's lips twitch.

"You never forced me to notice you," Juri says.

Silence.

"Uh, what?" Jan blurts out, laughing. Juri grins and hits the coxswain in the arm.

"Shut up. Not everyone's good with words like your friend Timo." Juri grows serious. "In all honesty, I never really noticed. People would tell me you were head over heels for me and it was-" Juri shrugs. "I guess I never noticed you." He catches Jan's gaze and holds it. Jan stares, unable to resist those pale blue eyes.

"So you've got one more year," Juri says. "You still going to try to go into chemistry?"

Jan grins. He can't help it, it's his favorite subject.

"Maybe, all depends on _Numerus Clausus_. There's a whole bunch of people who want to go into the field."

"You could try for a scholarship. American schools are always looking for good coxswains." Jan nods, considering Juri's words.

"What about you?" he asks, more out of politeness than real interest. Jan has heard the sorts of ideas that go through some of his teammates' heads and he has had to bite his tongue a good many times at some of the far-fetched plans. Unless, Jan grimaces inwardly, Juri's plan is the same as Timo's: do what he likes and what he is good at regardless of whether he can live off of it. Jan worries about Timo's plans and his future so much, it is ridiculous.

"I was thinking the _Technische Fachhochschule Berlin_. They have a couple of good programs for athletes. Maybe I'll do engineering, I have no idea."

Their conversation meanders off and eventually they go their separate ways.

ØØØ

Out of guilt, Jan tells Frank about what happened immediately the next Monday. All weekend he has felt sick, wondering whether someone had overheard Juri and him talking and told Frank or, worse, whether Juri had told Jan's boyfriend about what happened.

It is not the first time Jan has felt this way. Sometimes when he and Frank go to the movies or out to lunch, Jan finds himself thinking about someone else or staring just that long. Inevitably, it ends with him apologizing to Frank and all but begging Frank to forgive him. Frank always does without question or hesitation, and that makes Jan feel worse.

"Why?" Jan asks.

"Why what?" Frank asks back, laying a soft kiss to the top of Jan's blonde head, pulling a small shudder from him.

"Why do you still like me? I fucked up again. I've fucked up so many times and you're still here."

Frank brushes Jan's blonde scruff back, almost caressing his skull, the gesture is so tender. Jan looks up at him, a look of pure devastation on his face. Frank is smiling down at him but that does not mean much. Frank is always smiling. He smiles when he is happy. He smiles when he is upset or confused or just plain embarrassed but this time- this time it is sincere, soft, and caring and it is making Jan want to run away from the adoration and affection Frank is giving out because he just does not deserve it, not after what he has done. Why can't Frank just let him go? Why is nothing ever too much for him? Jan wishes Frank would get fed up with him and all his imperfections because he knows he's screwed up and anyone else would throw him away like so much garbage.

"I kissed Juri, Frank. I kissed him and I wanted him to kiss me back. How can you not be mad at me?"

"Jan," Frank says, his lips centimeters from Jan's ear. Jan shudders at the feeling of hot breath across sensitive skin. "Jan, I like you for you. Everything. You think because you still like Juri that you can't like me. That's not true. Jan, I wouldn't be surprised if ten years down the road you still like Juri.

We've been together for almost a year. I'm not asking you to be perfect, _Schatz_. I just want to be with you if you'll allow me to be."

"I didn't say I wasn't perfect," Jan mutters, smiling just a little bit. "You never know, I might be God's gift to women."

"Men," Frank laughs.

"Men and women," Jan says, grinning. "There might be a woman out there for me yet."

And everything is okay. Frank kisses him and Jan has never felt more loved. Their breathing matches in rhythm, Frank is pressing into him, Frank adores him, and everything is okay.

ØØØ

Jan first has sex with Frank in a tent, of all places. It is during a crew campout. Jan agrees to share a tent with Frank when the rower asks him, thinking that they might get some kissing in away from prying eyes. He does not realize until Frank whispers one simple question what exactly they can get into in the relative privacy of their tent.

"Sleep with me?" Frank asks. Jan knows exactly what he is asking in those words and, unlike Mäx, there is the implicit promise that if Jan says no, Frank will not force him. It is all up to Jan and he wants Frank.

ØØØ

Jan shivers, though whether that is from cold or anticipation, he cannot discern. Frank's fingers trace over his shoulders before sliding down his chest in stinging lines. They rest on Jan's pecs. Frank's eyes meet Jan's for a brief second before flicking down appreciatively to his chest and abdominal muscles. Frank licks his lips.

Jan is leaning forward unconsciously, his eyes sliding closed as his mouth opens. Frank is there and their lips meet. Frank's mouth is soft, wonderfully, exquisitely soft against his. Frank sucks on Jan's bottom lip and Jan forgets himself in the warm, wet feeling.

Frank slides the vibrating cell phone under the waistband of Jan's shorts, the cold metal humming against the coxswain's hard member. Frank's lips are on Jan's collarbone- clavicle, Jan whispers to himself.

"What?" Frank breathes, making Jan shudder as his warm breath ghosts over the hollow of Jan's neck.

"Don't stop," Jan pants. He brushes the bridge of his nose against Frank's brown hair, his fingers running through the hard bristles.

Frank blows out a warm breath and Jan shivers, clutching Frank to him so as that talented tongue licks a trail down the center of Jan's chest, the trail evaporating quickly, leaving a cool trail that makes Jan shiver even more.

"I can feel your heart beating," Frank whispers hotly. Jan's breath is coming in ever more ragged bursts. "Every-" he kisses Jan's left nipple, encircling it with his far too pretty mouth, "-single-" making a tight, exquisitely hot circle with only his lips, "-beat-" sucking on the hardened, erect, caramel-colored nipple. Jan gasps and arches up, his hands pressing Frank's head against his chest as Frank keeps up his slow torture and the vibration in Jan's shorts slows.

Frank lifts his head and his eyes flash wickedly. Jan stares, mesmerized by their intoxicating blue, and watches as Frank traces his fingers down Jan's middle, swirling those fingers over Jan's navel before continuing down to unbutton his shorts and slide the zip down.

The phone is removed and then it is Frank breathing over Jan's raised boxers, Jan's breathing sharp and rapid as that talented, hot mouth breathes closer and Frank pulls his shorts down and then, before Jan can protest, tugs the boxers down, too. Jan is so enthralled by Frank's performance- it can't be the first time he's done this, Jan thinks, there's no way this can be the first time- that he can't feel the heat in his face from being naked in his boyfriend's presence.

"You're so handsome," Frank says and kisses Jan's thigh. Jan's stomach tightens wonderfully as his legs begin to quiver. He watches as Frank lowers his head and slowly, so slowly, swallows him, his eyes fixed sleepily on Jan's in the hottest expression Jan's ever seen. That mouth and those eyes, and Jan's harder than he's ever been. Centimeter by centimeter, Frank takes him in. Jan's higher brain is gone and had it controlled his breathing, he would surely be dead by now before Frank's mouth closed on the very base of his cock and Frank's beautiful cheeks hollow.

 

It is pleasure, impossibly scorching hot pleasure as Frank milks him, teasing Jan with his fingers along the inner skin of Jan's thighs, driving the blonde crazy with blissful pleasure.

Jan comes in that beautiful mouth, his back arching and his hands clenching the sleeping bag with all his strength. Frank takes his come without complaint, spitting into a tissue while Jan lies in delirium, wave after wave of exotic pleasure crashing into him. He can't remember his own name in that moment, lying there boneless and limp as Frank's arms encircles him. Frank lays soft kisses to Jan's throat, holding him as Jan rides out the glorious storm.

ØØØ

Outside, Juri sits around the fire pit, watching the sight before him. He's not looking at the fire, per se, rather the reflection of the fire in the eyes of the youth sitting across from him.

Juri watches the coxswain's friend from across the fire. He's entranced by his brown hair and those deep brown eyes that reflect the campfire in shockingly bright flares of orange and red against incredibly dark irises. Timo, if that is really his name, Juri can only remember being introduced that one time by the boathouse, and he is not certain that is the name he was given, is sitting there, poking the fire with a long stick, every so often pausing to write something in the ragged notebook by his side. His eyes are fixated on the fire. The flames set dark shadows and freakishly mesmerizing highlights on his handsome face. He looks almost exotic with those high cheekbones and those dark eyes.

Suddenly, Timo's eyes flick from the fire to Juri's face. He raises an eyebrow and turns back to the fire. Juri knows that look was a warning and that he really should look away but he can't. There, sitting across from him, separated by only flickering flames and white-grey coals, is the real-life version of the face and the body that Juri has jacked off to for countless nights.

Tonight, they will sleep barely ten meters apart, separated by a bed of fallen leaves and nylon tent walls.

Their eyes meet and Timo stares at Juri in silent question. Juri smiles lopsidedly and doesn't look away. Quietly, only the crackling of twigs to be heard, Timo gets up from his seat. He walks over to Juri slowly, their eyes locked. Juri takes in a slow breath to steady himself and then Timo is there, standing in front of him, all smooth lines and board shorts.

"Mind if I-?" he asks, gesturing at the spot on the log next to Juri.

"No, not at all," Juri says in what feels like an incomprehensible rush.

"You're Juri," Timo says, looking at him with the most inscrutable expression, his fingers steepled against his chin. Juri's heart stills. Timo knows his name? He shrugs, masking his less than calm inner feelings.

"Yes," he says.

"I'm Timo."

"I know."

"Huh," Timo says. He picks a stick off of the ground and plays with it, twisting the loose bark off and tossing the loosened pieces into the fire. "You here with anyone?" he asks.

"No," Juri breathes.

Their lips meet and it is as though all the heat of the fire before them is in that kiss. Timo pulls away first and their eyes meet. Timo takes Juri's hand and then they are up, walking away from the campsite into the dark woods. Juri looks behind them, quickly memorizing the path behind him before Timo touches him again, a warm hand on Juri's cheek, a thumb tracing the line of his jaw, and warm lips on his own. The humming of the insects fades away with all other sound as the world turns into nothing but the two of them and the dark, dark night.

ØØØ

Timo knows it is wrong to be teasing Juri. In truth, there is nothing in that moment that he knows better than that it is wrong. This is Jan's guy, the one he has been in love with throughout the last few years.

Timo knows everything about Juri- what type of clothes he wears, what color his hair is when it is shining in the late afternoon sun, the way his eyes shine after a successful race. Timo has heard it all from Jan many, many times. Timo knew Juri before he ever met him. Everything Jan has ever learned, said, or even thought about Juri, Timo knows. He has memorized all of it, every word that has come out of the little blonde's mouth.

So, when he finally met Juri that day on the dock, Timo felt like he was meeting an old friend. He just had to remember what Juri looked like and what his voice sounded like. Everything else was already there. He recognized the words as Juri spoke them and the calm way Juri asked him that question. Juri's smile, the smile Jan said he had seen only once or twice, had gone right to Timo's heart as Juri's face was cemented in his mind with a clarity that swept away the fuzzy sketch Jan's words had created.

And now- Jan is with Franky. He has been for a very long time, almost a year if Timo remembers correctly. This is Jan's second? - Timo grimaces because he honestly does not remember how many boyfriends it has been- boyfriend. There have been a couple since Jan had confessed his 'love' for Juri. Timo flicks his thumbnail against his front teeth in thought.

What the hell, he decides. Jan cannot possibly claim Juri if he is off sucking face with Franky, that goddamned 'ex'-stoner. Timo does not really believe what Jan says about him but at least Frank is not like _Mäx_, high all the time and not caring who knows. Besides, Juri does not know that Jan likes him like that. That makes it okay, right?

No, Timo answers his own question. It is tantalizing, the illicitness of it all. The woods are dark, the murmur of voices from the tents are just quiet enough to be impossible to comprehend but loud enough to make you wonder what is being said. Juri's hair is falling out of his cap, resting in surprisingly long, blonde strands on his strong neck. His long-sleeved black shirt makes his skin glow in alluring contrast.

ØØØ

"He talks about you all the time," Juri murmurs as he strokes one of his broad thumbs over Timo's right cheekbone. His thumb is rough and deliciously warm, making Timo smile unconsciously. "All the time. You have no idea how much I know about you."

"Like what?" Timo says derisively. "My favorite color? My last name? There's nothing special about knowing that."

"No," Juri says as he slowly kisses down Timo's neck. "Like the way you talk to Jan when he's down and the way you're always there to protect him. Like the fact that David is your best friend and it kills Jan to see you two so close." Timo swallows painfully. "Or like that spiral notebook you were writing in earlier. Jan tells me about that, too, how it's full of all the things you want to say but can't; and how you won't even let David, your very best friend, look in it unless you're watching over him to make sure he doesn't-" Juri pauses to kiss the hollow of Timo's neck. Timo swallows the tight lump in his throat. Does he really talk about David that much? "-read something you never wanted him to know."

Juri pauses. Timo has gone silent, his lips held in a tight line as though he were holding pain in. His eyes are on the tent floor and he does not look at Juri looking at him in concern. Timo clutches his shorts tightly in his fists, his nails cutting into the skin of his palm.

"I didn't mean to upset you," Juri says. He leans down and kisses Timo's lips, the brunette kissing back with a frightening fervor. Juri kisses back but it does not feel right, not with Timo so upset, and he breaks the kiss as a pained sound, almost a sob but not, escapes Timo's lips. Timo pulls away and withdraws into himself so quickly that Juri can only gape at him in confusion.

"You don't understand," Timo says. "Jan's my friend and you're- what in the hell have I done?! Jan-"

"Hush," Juri says, pulling Timo to face him. "People will hear you. Hush, Jan is not going to do anything."

"He's going to hate me because of this. Because of you and me," Timo says, his brow furrowed.

"What's Jan got to do with us?" Juri asks.

"He likes you," Timo states simply, with all the conviction of a saint.

"He's with Franky. They've been together for a couple months."

"You think I don't know that?!" Timo snaps. "He's with Franky but he still likes you so you're his."

Juri laughs.

"I don't belong to him," he says. "Why do you think I would? Because he saw me first? What are we, schoolgirls?"

Timo grins beside himself and flops down on Juri's sleeping bag. He folds his hands behind his head and simply looks at Juri, smiling.

"I guess not. We're two fucking queers in the middle of nowhere talking about our feelings."

"I resent that comment," Juri says, chuckling as he lies down on his side and traces slow circles on Timo's chest.

"I resent your face," Timo says back. Juri raises an eyebrow and his circles move lower. Timo's breathing grows shallower with every centimeter Juri's fingers move downwards. He watches Juri's hand move and almost whines when those fingers stop, and Juri drops a small kiss on his cheek.

"Sleep," Juri whispers. He turns over so that he is facing the tent wall, away from Timo. Timo smiles and turns to the other side. He falls asleep quickly.

Juri wakes in the middle of the night freezing. The tent walls are damp from the evening rain and bitterly cold as the outside air pulls the warmth from the air inside. Juri shivers and pulls his boots on for what little warmth they can give him. He turns towards the inside of the tent. Timo is asleep inside the sleeping bag. Juri glances at him for a moment, then wraps himself around the smaller man to share body heat.

He is not sure what he was thinking the night before when he took Timo back here but somehow he cannot imagine the night having gone any different. It is one of the perks of being Juri; he does not regret past decisions. After Christina, when Juri started doubting his sexuality and wondering why he suddenly found the odd itching in the back of his skull turning into burning hot longing for this or that teammate, Juri promised himself he would not regret things he had done because he would stop doing things he regretted.

So far, he has been highly successful. Juri is happier than he was three months ago and he is not thinking about what might have been because he is too busy _doing_. He is too busy watching the people around him and letting himself think what he actually wants to think. He is attracted to the people he only glanced at before, specifically the male members of the species, and he lets himself think all the dark, dirty thoughts until they stop being so dark and dirty and start being normal, everyday, and part of his personality.

It was Coach who first pointed out that Juri is less serious and less introverted than he used to be, that Juri is kinder and friendlier to the novices, and calmer in general. Juri does not frown quite so much anymore. He smiles, instead, smiles because there is a happy calm within him that suffuses his whole being so that everyone seems to like him more. That calms Juri even more, that people like him. The world stops being just rowing and just practicing drums and just hanging out with Christina all the time, and starts being about hanging out and having fun with Jan, with Frank and Iona and all his other friends. Because they are his friends now, not just his fellow rowers. For the first time in a long time, Juri has friends, people who care about his thoughts and understand that he doesn't need to talk all the time but still hang out with him even if Juri does not have anything to say.

Even if this thing with Timo does not work out, even if Timo turns out to regret all this later, Juri will remember the night before with fondness. Timo is the first guy he has been with and nothing will ever change that.

Juri smiles and runs a finger down along Timo's cheekbone, the boy shivering under his touch and turning towards him. Juri wraps tighter around Timo and goes back to sleep.

ØØØ

"Why's it so fucking cold?" Timo grumbles in the morning, completely ignoring the subject of the events of the night before, for which Juri is grateful. A heart to heart while the sun finishes rising and everyone else's ears are wide open could end very badly indeed. They already have one out gay couple in the group; they surely don't need a surprise one appearing overnight.

"Wilderness, man. No heat out here," Juri says cheerfully as he finishes rolling up the sleeping bag and steps outside. A few people are up, most of them gathered round the campfire and the others wandering off to relieve themselves.

Timo plunks himself down next to Jan. The little coxswain is all bundled up in a black hoodie with only his nose and the bill of his cap sticking out as he huddles against any source of warmth, looking woefully pathetic and cold.

"M-m-morning," Jan chatters. Timo looks at his friend in amusement. Jan is shaking all over, his hands clutched to his mouth as he blows on them for any scrap of warmth. Timo tries not to laugh at him. It is really, really hard though with Jan looking so pitiful. Timo scoots over to Jan and wraps his arm around him. Jan smiles gratefully and presses himself into Timo's warm body.

Timo runs hot most of the time so much so that he is used to David cuddling up to him every time David gets even slightly cold. Timo is long used to icicle fingers and freezing noses turned bright red from cold. Jan is much smaller than David, however, making him a much cuddlier mate than David. They sit like that together while the camp slowly wakes around them, Jan too cold to dare move away and Timo not mean enough to force him to.

Jan's shivering slowly subsides as the morning sun rises fully and warms the campsite. Dishes are being pulled out as the currywurst finishes cooking over the fire. Timo grins and takes the sausages and hard rolls that one of the rowers hands him. He shakes Jan- the little coxswain has begun dozing against Timo's side- and hands his sleepy friend his breakfast. Jan yawns, accepting the food with a soft 'thank you'.

Timo watches Jan stare blankly into the fire, the sausage and roll somehow forgotten in his hand. He is plainly not awake enough to eat, so Timo eats at his own leisure, a small smirk on his lips. When, after several long moments, Jan still has not begun to eat, Timo nudges him.

"Huh?" Jan says. Timo smiles at his sleep-befuddled look.

"Eat," he commands. Jan takes a bite and chews slowly as he continues to stare into the flames. "Did you get any sleep last night?"

"Yeah."

"Really, cause you're lookin' like you haven't a clue that you're awake."

"I'm up," Jan says plaintively. He sniffs and looks away from Timo prissily, making Timo laugh.

Frank sits down next to Jan, a hot cup of some dark liquid in each of his hands. Frank gives one to Jan, kissing Jan's cheek so that the coxswain smiles shyly and a faint flush warms his icy cheeks.

"Good morning," Frank says quietly enough not to make Jan grumble at him. Jan takes a sip from his mug and leans his head against Frank's shoulder, mumbling a 'good morning' back.

Timo raises his eyebrows, shoves the last of his breakfast in his mouth, and gets up. He has no interest in taking part in their little romantic shit this early in the morning. As he gets up and goes to snag something else to eat, Timo notes that, in all honesty, he really would have no interest in taking part in any public displays of affection at any time of the day.

Unless, of course, he was damn sure he would not be discovered. Timo does not blush but his ears burn fiercely at the thought of his activities with Juri the night before. Timo had shocked himself with his bravado and sheer recklessness. What had he been thinking to drag a guy he barely knew out into the trees and kiss him like his life depended on it? And then to return to that same guy's tent for more as if the whole campsite could not hear them?

Timo sees Juri walking toward him. It briefly crosses his mind to turn away and let Juri figure out for himself not to come talk to him. Timo dismisses that thought. He is not one to turn away from a challenge or a problem and it would be a lie to say that he is not still interested in the rower walking towards him.

In the light of day, Juri is only more alluring. He seems taller in the morning light, his muscles more defined under his shirt and his long hair pulled back into a sexy ponytail that just touches the tops of his broad shoulders.

"Morning," Juri says, joining Timo in line.

"Morning," Timo returns.

"Look-" they say at the same time. They smile and turn quiet, each waiting for the other to begin.

"I'm still interested," Timo says, keeping his eyes carefully away from Juri's face as he fills a plate with a roll and thin slices of cold ham. "I don't want you to think that I am ignoring you except people are going to talk if we start sharing a tent."

Juri snorts.

"That's assuming I was going to ask you to share my tent with you."

"You would," Timo says, looking Juri straight in the eyes, "if I asked you to."

"I would?" Juri says lightly.

"You would," Timo says with conviction, raising an eyebrow at Juri. Juri smiles, conceding to Timo's point without argument. There is a tension between them, a tight burn that tingles between their bodies at a magnificent heat and neither can ignore it.

"You wanna eat with me or what?" Timo asks abruptly. "Cause Jan's getting his thing on with Frank and I'm not in the mood to watch anyone swapping spit before the day's fully begun."

"Sure." Juri tilts his head and they go off to sit at one of the benches, sitting across from each other so that they are face-to-face. Juri lets his coffee cool. He is hungry in some part of his body but right now, Timo is far more interesting. He is hulked over his food, shoveling it in with a single-mindedness akin to a starved caveman and Juri is struggling to keep the smile tugging at his lips from turning into a hard laugh.

"What?" Timo asks, his mouth full of food. Juri shakes his head and takes a swig of his thin coffee.

"Nothing."

Timo swallows and puts his arms down on the table. "Nothing my ass. You're watching me."

Juri smirks into his coffee mug.

"Stop it," Timo hisses, leaning forward and whispering loudly. It is not quite as surreptitious as Timo seems to think it is because several girls turn to look at them curiously.

"Why?" Juri asks, still smirking because it is making Timo smile crookedly. Timo does not seem to be aware that he is smiling which just makes it all the more adorable. "You're not all that bad to look at."

Timo is trying too hard not to smile, that much is obvious. His lips bulge out from the effort. Juri nudges him with his foot and Timo cannot hold it in any longer. He bursts out laughing and Juri chuckles, too, because there is no reason they should be laughing and even less that they should not. It feels good, that is all Juri cares about. It feels good and one of the most attractive men Juri knows is laughing with him, laughing because he is embarrassed about being watched in the daylight by a guy he had shared a sleeping bag with the night before.

Timo punches him in the arm.

"Are you always this obvious when you flirt?" Timo asks with a smile.

"If he's hot enough, sure," Juri says, loving the way Timo looks away and his leg starts shaking nervously, rattling the table just enough for Juri to be able to tell without looking. Timo is practically quivering with embarrassed nervousness, something Juri would not have expected from him.

Juri was not lying when he said Jan had told him a great deal about Timo. Even considering that Jan could have been exaggerating, everything Juri knows about Timo is fascinating to compare with the flesh-and-blood version before him. Timo, the boy who never shows fear; Timo, the guy who practices too much, memorizes too quickly, makes Jan feel left behind in the talent department; Timo, the loyal friend so obsessed with David and his many illnesses and problems; Timo, the amazing rapper with ambition and creativity and _emotion_ that Jan feels like he can never match. The same Timo who is blushing furiously and looking anywhere but at Juri.

Juri smiles and takes another sip of coffee, letting the rich flavor coat his tongue as he watches Timo try to pull himself back.

"You want to get away from here for a while?" Timo asks finally, his words rushed. Juri lifts an eyebrow and sets his coffee down.

"I dunno, would you actually be able to talk or are you going to continue turning red?" Juri asks, barely containing his amusement. Timo's eyes flash, though whether it is with anger or challenge, Juri cannot tell.

"I won't need to talk if we go back to the tent," Timo says.

Juri is up out of his seat in a flash, grabbing his and Timo's dishes. He sets them down at the end of the breakfast table with a hurried apology and catches up to Timo, ducking inside the tent before anyone sees. Neither realizes that they are the focus of the whole camp as Jan's sleepy eyes go wide.

ØØØ

_I wanted a tattoo, I wanted this tattoo, I still want this tattoo. Oh, fuck it, this guy is scary as shit._

_"Timo, I want to go home," sounds promising right about now,_ Jan thinks.

Jan gapes at the tattoo-covered man. There are wings, big, black, fucking wings on his cheeks, sweeping from the apples of his cheeks all the way up to his temples. A female face with a gigantic pair of ruby red lips stares out sultrily from his neck while Russian letters mark inked lines down both of his forearms and his calves show almost none of his naturally pale skin under all the black. And that's not including the hoop piercing his septum or the gigantic gauges in his stretched ears. Jan is growing uneasy and twitchy just from watching the guy.

"That's the receptionist," Timo murmurs in Jan's right ear. Jan gulps and nods feebly. The receptionist? Jan is so not taking this well. Oh God, the receptionist looks like a Satanist- what do the actual artists look like?

"I can't do this," Jan says. He gets out of his chair and is seconds from the door when Timo hauls him back.

"Dude, we're doing this," Timo says, shoving Jan back into his seat.

"We can do it tomorrow or maybe next week. We don't have to do it now," Jan points out in what he hopes is a sane voice. Timo just grins at him.

"Right. That's why we made this appointment and spent the last three months discussing exactly what we wanted to get. We're doing this."

"You're doing this," Jan interjects. A pretty bleach-blonde woman dressed in a black corset top and tight bright blue pants walks up to them, a sheet of paper clutched in her black-nailed hand.

"Mr.…Sonnenschein?" she asks in a fashionably hoarse voice. Timo grins at Jan and grabs his arm, dragging him up to stand next to him. Jan wants to puke.

"That's us."

"Alright," she smiles and motions them to the back of the shop, where several oddly shaped chairs and benches are set. Jan looks at the walls with their blood red paint and black corners. Etchings of demons and fallen angels seem to leer out of everywhere while black and hot pink throw pillows line one wall. The whole place is creepy and darkly colorful. Jan feels as though he has entered some sort of evil sanctum sanctorum for tattoo artists where they offer up their 'customers' for sacrifices to Beelzebub. Soon witches' brooms will emerge out of the walls complete with magic bridles and rail-thin cat familiars.

"Chill out," Timo hisses. Jan glares at him.

Timo goes first, after they discuss the design for his tattoo with the artist. Jan is doubly skeeved about the whole thing when the woman, whose name, Agrippina, Jan seriously doubts is her real name, begins drawing on Timo's right forearm.

"There's not a waiting period?" he squeaks out. Agrippina does not even pause in her drawing. Her long fake blonde hair drapes over Timo's arm and she flips it back periodically to see better. Timo winces as the blonde strands slap him in the chin.

"Getting scared, Timo?" Jan quips. Timo flips him off only to have Agrippina give him a death glare for moving.

They exit the shop later with petroleum jelly slathered over their newly inked body parts. Timo now sports something he himself designed (i.e. Jan has no fucking clue what it is but it looks cool) and Jan has a highly stylized fish on the side of his right leg. Walking hurts a bit but Jan takes it all in stride as the friends abandon propriety to crow about their new tattoos. They are so cool.

ØØØ

Jan is smiling as he sifts through the records in his lap. They are old and dusty but, to him, they are the most precious thing in the world. The black vinyl under his hands feels so right to him. Jan can just imagine scratching the beautiful vinyl records to the rhythms in his mind. Among these records have to be the sounds he has always dreamed of, the raw form for the patterns that he thought up while in school or out on the water when he was supposed to be paying attention to something else.

Jan places the first record on the player and places the needle down on the rim.

He flicks his hands in a practiced pattern, bouncing slightly as he warmed up. It sounds like nothing but to him it was everything. Jan loses himself in the warm scratches and easy skips, turning someone else's perfect, measured playing into something unrecognizable, something incredibly new but old at the same time.

Transformation, that is the word he has been looking for. Transformation, the alteration of a bacterial cell caused by the transfer of the DNA from another bacterial cell. Transformation, the change of one thing into something else, something better. That is what Jan is doing. It is not laziness or an inability to play an instrument adequately that brings him to this transformational act but innovation and a learned creativity. To play as he plays requires intense study and memorization of the individual sounds of each second of every song and recording, a knowledge that he then takes and uses as a gigantic library of sound where he has only to pluck the desired notes from the designated song to create what he wants.

This is more than the guitar, so much more. Jan can now make sounds that his voice cannot recreate and his fingers cannot play.

ØØØ

It first starts to be official to Jan when he discovers where the ring Juri always used to wear, the silver ring on his left middle finger, the ring that had mysteriously gone missing a few weeks before, shows up on Timo's thumb. It is a little too big, sliding around on Timo's thumb so that he has to adjust it constantly, the silver glittering in the sunlight when he pushes it down with his finger. The silver band Jan knows so well is so so obvious on Timo, like a stamp to the world that Timo belongs to Juri.

Jan has things Frank has given him, shirts and jackets, just bits of clothing, but it seems as nothing against that ring. The pain becomes suddenly so fresh when Jan looks at it because that ring is Juri's, so much more Juri than even Frank's leather jacket is Frank because he has never taken that piece of metal off until now.

Timo starts coming to practice as well. It is not to row- Timo has no talent or interest there- it is to see Juri and to bike with Jan home, too, but mostly to see Juri. They do not kiss or hug; they do not even hold hands but Jan sees everything between them, how Timo's eyes light up when Juri comes up from the dock, how they do not go to see each other immediately but they smile like it is Christmas morning, how they share glances, heated, promising glances or funny faces just to make the other laugh, until they finally talk to each other.

And, in some ways, that eases the pain of having 'lost'. To see Juri so happy and Timo so excited, almost tripping over himself to talk to Juri, helps the wounds on Jan's heart to heal. Maybe, Jan thinks, maybe he was never meant to have Juri. Juri was not ready when Jan came around; Jan had almost forgotten what Juri once meant to him when Juri was ready so what right does he have to resent Timo? This is new for Timo, too, to have a guy who cares about him the way Juri does.

The girls coo over them and giggle behind their hands as much as they titter about Jan and Frank. There is a balance to this madness of guys in love. Jan smiles. Is it love? Is what he feels for Frank that strong that he can truthfully think of it as anything more than a content friendship? It is, Jan knows. It is because he has never been happier, never felt more whole, loved, and appreciated than he does when Frank smiles at him, when Frank kisses him, when Frank whispers how adorable Jan is in his ears.

Frank is love.

ØØØ

Timo turns over in bed at the sound of his ringtone and the faint buzzing of the vibrate setting. With a sleepy grumble, he grabs his phone and presses a button, placing it against his ear to hear the familiar sound of Juri's voice.

"Hey," Timo says, his eyes still closed as he leans back into his pillows, close to sleep.

"Hey, yourself. Did I wake you?" Juri's voice is heaven to Timo and he grins, remembering the feel of Juri's arms around him. Timo never thought he would miss someone so much in so little time. It has only been a few hours since they last talked, only a day since they last touched but it feels like much more time has passed.

"Not really," Timo says, wrapping his free hand around his sheets just to have something to hold on to, something to take the place of Juri for a short time. "I was just- lying down."

Juri chuckles and Timo's heart clenches and his groin tightens.

"I'll call back tomorrow," Juri says, his voice low and gravely. "Get some sleep."

"No, wait-" Timo says. He does not want Juri to go.

"Hmm?" Juri asks. Timo pauses, realizing he has nothing to say.

"Goodnight," he says finally, feeling foolish, his face burning from how stupid and weak he must sound.

"Goodnight," Juri murmurs. "I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you more," Timo says. He flushes red. God, that was a stupid thing to say.

"Goodnight, handsome," Juri chuckles before hanging up.

Timo sighs and puts the phone down. He stares at his pillow and smiles, too wrapped up in the sound of Juri's voice to think of anything more. Timo slips a hand under the band of his boxer shorts, slowly wraps that hand around his erect cock, and pumps it to the sweet memory of Juri's kisses.

Timo thrusts into his hand, moaning loudly as he comes across his stomach with a hard stroke. He pants as his body cools rapidly, the come on his stomach chilling and turning icy as he comes down from his orgasm with Juri's name on his lips.

ØØØ

Frank is teaching Jan how to bake. It would be more hilarious if the little blonde were not so seriously frustrated about it.

"You're not bad," Frank says encouragingly.

"No, I'm just not good," Jan grumbles as he continues mixing the goop in the large metal bowl sitting on the counter. He peers at it suspiciously, as though expecting it to implode on him.

"Here, let me," Frank says, taking the spoon from his boyfriend. He wants this to be fun for Jan so that they can have something other than crew and music to do when they are together but it seems Jan has no patience for cooking. Frank had expected that it would be easy, since Jan likes chemistry so much, yet somehow, the connection between the two has fizzled out along with Jan's temper.

"All you have to do is stir until everything is moist and you turn the mixture over and over to make sure." Frank demonstrates by stirring easily and wetting the mix thoroughly, not seeing the way Jan deflates once the spoon is taken away from him. Jan leans back against the stove in boredom and yelps when he finds it hot.

Frank is on him in an instant.

"Are you okay?" he asks, checking Jan's hands and wrists for any sign of a burn.

"I'm fine," Jan says. Frank looks at him earnestly, with such caring and concern that Jan smiles and blushes just the tiniest bit. "I'm fine, really."

"You sure?" Frank asks, kissing the inside of Jan's palm, pressing for that second longer than necessary in the way that always makes Jan feel all warm and squooshy inside. Jan barely meets Frank's worried eyes, he is so flushed and embarrassed. Frank kisses his nose and pulls away to go back to their cake mix.

Jan sighs and plops down on the floor unceremoniously, making sure to sit far away from the stove. Frank grins at him before pouring the mixture into the glass pan. He opens the stove and leans down to put the pan in, giving Jan a nice view of his ass. Jan waits until Frank pulls his hands out to lean over and cheekily pinch Frank's ass.

Frank jumps. He squeaks as he whirls around to glare down at Jan, letting the spring on the stove door slam shut.

"What was that for?!" he asks shrilly, completely mortified.

Jan shrugs and yanks on Frank's pant leg.

"I'm bored," he whines like a little child, pulling on Frank's pant leg and pouting up at his boyfriend. "Play with me."

Frank smiles and pulls Jan's hood back to run his fingers through Jan's blonde scruff as he crouches down to give Jan a kiss.

"Well, I guess we have time while the cake bakes."

"You guess?" Jan laughs, grabbing Frank's shirtfront to pull him closer for a deeper kiss. Frank yips as he loses his balance. He falls on top of Jan and begins apologizing profusely as Jan laughs and kisses him, wrapping his arms around Frank's neck and turning them so Frank is sitting between his legs and leaning back against him.

"Baking is hard work," Frank says, rubbing his cheek against Jan's neck. His eyes are closed and he breathes in slowly, enjoying the closeness.

"So let me relax you," Jan whispers, kissing Frank's rough brown hair. "How about-" he says, tracing his hand down Frank's left arm, "-we have fun now and-" he pauses at Frank's hand to tangle his fingers with Frank's shorter ones, "-take the cake out when it's done and have it for dessert?"

"I'd like that," Frank says, smiling with his eyes closed happily.

"I thought you would," Jan says. "Now get up, we're not doing this on the kitchen floor. Your rule."

Frank groans.

"Why did I ever make that rule?"

"You didn't. Your mom did. Now, up," Jan says, standing up and pulling Frank along with him though the rower's grumbles.

ØØØ

Training becomes more intense as the season comes to a close. Saturdays are always race days and weekday mornings have started to become practices as well as the afternoons. It is exhausting for Jan to drag himself out of bed, bike down to the boathouse, and get everyone organized, and there are so many days when he just wants to curl back up in bed and sleep forever but the second he tries, someone is calling him, asking where he is. The boats cannot go on the water without a coxswain and Margaux cannot cox two boats at once.

So Jan ends up shrugging on a hoodie and shorts, and biking his way down to the boathouses. The day starts out bleak and cold, not warming until the sun has risen, which, considering that practice starts at 5:30, never occurs soon enough.

It is funny, though, how little awareness any of the rowers need to row. Their bodies are trained so much so that they can pull the oars with incredible strength while at the same time being unable to carry even the most basic of conversations, grunting not included.

Two hours later, practice ends with a flurry of motion, everyone snatching up backpacks and hurriedly changing into pants and more appropriate T-shirts before racing to their bikes and cars to get to school on time. Jan is glad that he has physics first thing in the morning instead of, say, history or German because his brain is definitely not functional that early in the morning.

Then it is lunch with Timo, eating at a local Imbiss, Jan paying, Timo always promising to pay him back and never able to but Jan does not mind. Timo has started up a job as a busboy at a pizza parlor. It embarrasses him to death because many of their classmates frequent the place but Timo needs the money more than he needs his pride. Right now, Jan is not sure where the money is going but, then again, he does not really want to know. Timo has never had anything to go on. His dad walked out on them when Timo was four years old, leaving Timo's mother with two kids and no child support. At least, that is the story Timo always tells. He somehow forgets to mention that his dad was once a big name star, a guitar player for Illegal 2001, and that his mother was little more than a groupie who could not let go of her dream of being near her celebrity crush. Regardless, the Sonnenschein household was never a rich or classy one. Jan just hopes Timo will stick it out and get his Abitur. He can go somewhere with his music if he really tries. Jan hopes Timo will get lucky, like Mäx, that he will find someone willing to give him money to do what he loves best because Timo is not going to survive otherwise.

After lunch, Jan goes back to his classes, getting out around one o'clock. He bikes home, takes a nap, and then it is back to the boathouse and more practice.

The team has had a great season. In June, they hope to compete in an amateur competition on the Lac du Causse in France. Because they row sweep as opposed to scull, Jan's team is not eligible for the higher up championships. In the back of their minds, they all wonder what it would be like to win the World Junior Rowing Championships but it is as likely as the Olympics for them and the dream remains a fantasy. So they practice for what they can reach, with the hopes of winning the quarter- and semi-finals in France.

ØØØ

The biggest race of the season.

The day starts out cold. Jan shivers in his jacket, jiggling his legs back and forth to try and get some warmth around the godawful spandex he has to wear along with his teammates. His suit, embarrassingly enough, does not fit. It is too big and loose around his thighs and dangly bits. Jan really wishes he could stop thinking about dangly bits because right now he is seeing way too many camel toes and boners for his liking, along with beautiful tufts of hair sticking out every time a team of male rowers move their shells to rig or derig.

This, of course, happens every race but, with the excitement of and anticipation for the first race of the day still hanging in the air like a palpable smog and rowers running around everywhere, some jogging, some grabbing extra bolts and nuts or taking a quick run to the bathrooms, it's looking a bit like a kinky porno on the race grounds.

Frank settles a blanket around Jan's shoulders, cuddle-hugging him from behind.

"Thanks," Jan says and leans back into his boyfriend.

"No problem. If you want, we can go sit in the trailer. Most of the girls are huddled up there." Only about half the team has shown up for the race. The rowers rowing, the girl's eight, made up of Guillard and Jugendruderverein rowers, and the guy's four, are there but only a couple of their other teammates came along for the trip. Coach Breitmann has driven with Yasmin, Guillard's coach, all the way from Neumünster with the eight and the four in what must have been an exhausting trip, the rest of the team coming down in a coach bus for the race.

Last night, there had been no parties. Today is too serious for anyone to risk it a pre-celebratory hangover. Jan spent the night in the bottom bunk of the hostel room, Frank in a sleeping bag on the floor next to him, Juri, Georg, and Paul taking the other beds. Jan had offered to share his bed with Frank but they had agreed that it would be better for everyone involved if they did not sleep together. Jan had then offered to sleep on the floor, since he was the smallest, which had led to a loud argument that Jan deserved a bed more than any of the rest of him- and, oh, did that make Jan get red in the face- after which first Paul, then Juri, then Georg all offered him their beds. So Jan curled up in his Federbett with Frank on the floor, not talking to each other, just looking. Frank had said goodnight and kissed Jan's palm before turning onto his side. Jan's sleep that night had been amazing.

Now he just wants to stay in Frank's arms and warm up until the weather decides it does not hate them all.

"The first race is in an hour," Frank says quietly, squeezing Jan to him.

"You ready?" Frank grins.

"Definitely. We've got this."

ØØØ

The first race of the day, the semi-finals for the guy's four, goes well. It is a full race, all two thousand meters, and Jan keeps his team at a normal race pace. It is not slow at all but they make an easy second, only a nose behind first place, and make it into the finals. Jan uses the race to measure the five hundred, thousand, and fifteen hundred marks for the finals. The racecourse is surprisingly straight, not even a gentle curve and Jan knows it will be easy going for his part at least.

He tapes his rowers' fingers, passes water bottles around, and tells them to relax. Frank snags him for a few quick kisses away from the rest of the team, pressing his _very_ nicely toned body against Jan's, and for once, the coxswain honestly enjoys the regulation spandex uniforms.

The second semi-final race ends quickly, though, and they have to prepare for the final. It will be a close race, the winner of the second race a full three seconds ahead of the winner of the first semi-final. They wait, the anxiety and excitement building.

Once their boat is called, the team leaps into action. The girls gather up the oars and the shoe basket, Jan calls out the orders for the boat to be lifted and carried down to the loading dock. Coach wishes them all luck as Jan gathers up the water bottles.

They wait at the dock for the team before them to push off. The official motions to them to set the boat down. Oars are placed into the locks, Jan checking that everything's tight, and then they are in the boat, their teammates gathering up their discarded shoes and wishing them luck, a cacophony of sound at their backs as they push off. Quickly, they pass the finish line about a hundred meters out. To Jan's right, he can see the finish tower on stilts over the water. There is just barely enough space to slow the boats down before they get back to the docks. If he misses and the boat slides in too fast, he will have to make a sharp right and go out back to where the busses are parked. Jan reminds himself to check the boat a stroke after the finish line.

Then…silence as they pass the crowds waiting impatiently. They row out past the rolling French hills, green with summer's splendor, sandy beaches passing them by as they row on. As usual, they will actually be rowing four thousand meters- one set of two thousand to get to the starting line and another two thousand for the actual race. It seems a waste of energy from the outside looking in but once the race is over, the teams are lucky to be able to drag themselves out of the water and back to their trailers without accident or injury.

The racecourse is beautiful, tree-lined, and rich with greenery. Jan wonders if it is a popular tourist spot later on in the summer season when it is not being used for crew races. The water here is calm, smooth, and perfect for them today. It is getting hotter with every meter they advance on the starting line and Jan wants to shrug his jacket off. He will need it later, though, during the wait and the actual race when the rowers in the boats around them let loose a torrent of water from their oars slapping into the water. Good form and Jan will stay dry; a single crab from his own team or the ones around them, and he will still be dripping when he climbs out of the boat at the end.

There is the race official in his launch, ready with his loudspeaker. Jan tells Georg and Juri to hold their oars. Frank and Paul row on slowly, languidly, waiting for the race official to direct them to their lane. The other boats are in position. Jan's lane is number four out of six. Now they only have to wait for the other boats to slide into position.

Jan tells Paul to take a stroke and set their nose. The other boats are doing the same, minor checks and half-strokes to allow for the slight current. Soon, the last two are in position. Juri sits ready for ½ slide, his muscles tensing, his teammates falling in behind him, all ready, all waiting.

The race official raises his loudspeaker. Jan checks his headset one last time before bracing his hands on the rope. He looks down the racecourse. It is straight, better than he could hope for. No waves, only the slightest rippling of the wind on the water.

"_Trois._"

"_Deux._"

"_Un!_"

½ slide, ¾ slide, ¾ slide- Jan braces himself, full! The rowers slam into action, throwing themselves back off the footplates. The power is incredible and the slide is perfectly smooth. They've got this.

"Power Twenty!" Jan yells. "Twenty, nineteen, eighteen-"

His rowers chant with him, putting more and more power into every stroke. They are flying down the raceway, the water a blur underneath them as their speed increases. Out of the corner of his eyes, Jan can see the other boats but he ignores them as they continue their start.

He screams out another Power Twenty and Juri is there, putting more strength into it. Paul is leaning back against the wind their boat is creating, farther and farther back but keeping his strength and matching Juri's stroke. They are at thirty strokes a minute. Jan looks at his gauge and he cannot believe it, they are going so fast. But it will all mean nothing if they fade out at the halfway mark.

He continues to scream, encouraging his rowers and fellow teammates on as blasts of water slam into his small frame from the boats around them and Juri's oar. It is a whirlwind of speed and strength, and Jan prays they can keep it up. He sees the house he took note of earlier. Seven hundred meters in. Now they just need to maintain it.

"Good, good, keep it up," he calls.

The boat next to them slows, falling behind as Jan calls out again. Juri's breathing is heavy but steady. They can do this. Just that bit more before they reach the halfway mark…

"Power Forty!" he screams over the wind and the other coxswains.

There is a flash, Juri glaring at him before he throws himself forward. The oar barely misses Jan. He grins at Juri, getting an answering grimace, and continues to scream out the count, demanding his rowers answer him. Halfway there, they have half the race done. Jan can see the next marker, a stand of trees to the port side. A hundred meters then. Good, good. He just has to keep them going.

Numbers blur as Jan's voice grows hoarse but he continues to yell, knowing that he is the only one who can see the race marker. He calls his rowers by name, telling Georg to speed it up, yelling at Frank to press on; they are almost there, encouraging Paul that little bit more. Juri he does not have to say anything to. They are eye to eye; they might as well be breathing and moving as one. Juri's rhythm is perfect, impeccable in a way that leaves most people breathless. Jan stares Juri down, daring him to give it that bit more that he knows is in Juri, using his eyes to tell him that if he could, Jan would be right there rowing for him, with him. Jan is the coxswain but his words mean nothing if Juri does not follow them to the letter.

Jan waits, checking the shoreline for that copse of trees and that stretch of beach that means the 1500 mark. His stomach twists in anticipation, his head is light, then- there! The 1500 mark, that bit of beach and trees, springs forth. Jan prepares himself…

…and he screams with everything he has, bellowing that this is it, that they can't give up, that they have it, the finish line is right there, he can see it. He can't, not yet, but they don't know that as Jan screams out a Power Forty, begging in the way only a coxswain can with screams and curses for them to put everything they have into it.

The rowing becomes choppy. Paul is getting tired. His height is much less than Juri's and his stroke length is suffering now. Jan calls out his name, screaming at him, demanding that he keep going, that he is their only hope to win the race. Their eyes meet and Jan glares at him, finding that spark in Paul's eyes, and he _knows_ Paul will do it. There is no can; Paul will do this because this is it, the biggest race of the season, the end of the true racing year, the very last race that matters.

Paul nods, grits his teeth, and in a second, he is back at the oar, throwing his strength into it. Jan glances at Juri and then Juri picks up the stroke, flying down the slide. The check is painful, they are losing form but with this speed, Jan knows they will get second or third if they can _just keep it up._

He bellows with the force of a bull moose, his words almost incomprehensible, his throat burning with the sound he forces through it. Juri pulls the oar back, slides over the slide, Georg's slide is barely moving and he is using only his arms now. Jan screams his name, begging him to row properly because they almost have it, they can do this.

The finish tower is suddenly at Jan's left. Sweat and water trickle down his forehead, blurring his vision. Juri becomes a haze in front of him as Jan blinks furiously. He gives up on his sight and continues his cries, desperate to wrench everything that he can out of his rowers. He knows they are tired, he knows the blisters on their hands have broken open and that they only want to rest now but, goddamit, they have a race to win!

Jan looks to the starboard side. They are nose to nose with one boat, the next too far behind to make a difference at this pace.

And then…it is over. The horn blares in rapid succession and Jan does not know whether they made first or second. He screams out one last time for the rowers to weigh enough and to check. The boat slows, the oars pressing hard against the water.

For a moment, there is only the rowers' heavy breathing, both from the four and the boats around them, before the horn honks the last boat in. Jan looks to the nearest coxswain, calling out a congratulation that makes his throat protest. The rowers next to him nod wearily.

Alas, there is no time for resting on the water. Other races need to begin; they need to get off the water. Jan directs his boat in. It is a bit tricky aligning perfectly with the dock. A volunteer grabs the bow ball, however, easing their progress with a slow tug. Then, it's up out of the boat, opening the oarlocks, closing and locking them again, piling the oars on the dock for their teammates to grab before any of them can hear the times. Everywhere is noise, the horn signaling the end of the next race, the fans screaming, their teammates and the officials talking, the beautiful sound of oars pulling out of the water, and the waves of wake hitting the sand. Sound everywhere, so loud that Jan does not hear their place at first. When he does, a grin splits out across his face.

He is just about to turn to his teammates in victory when he wipes the water and sweat from his eyes and looks up for a moment. There, far away on the back of the pier, just for a moment, he thinks he sees a head of curly dirty-blonde hair on shore. Mäx. It flashes through his mind, shocking him out of his joy. The air escapes Jan's lungs, leaving him breathless. Mäx. The name repeats in his mind over and over. Mäx, Mäx, Mäx. The name is everything and nothing, it moves so fast. Jan's world all but collapses as Mäx's name continues its loop. Mäx.

Juri shakes his shoulder, screaming their victory in his ear as the fans scream excitedly.

But Jan is in a daze. The world has stopped moving around him as a cold chill rushes through him, pouring ice into his veins even as Frank hugs him, overjoyed at their win.

"We won!" Frank yells. "Jan, Schatz, we won!"

Frank shakes him in concern.

"Jan, you okay?"

"Coxswain?"

"Sorry," Jan says. He smiles broadly, covering up as quickly as he can. "We won!" he yells, hugging Frank before hugging the rest of his rowers. The biggest race of the season and they've won it!

ØØØ

Jan walks away from the congratulations and the cries of victory. He exits the crowd of cheering teammates and family, half of him wanting to find Mäx, half of him wanting to hide from the whole world. He can't think, his mind is one word. Mäx. Mäx is here. Mäx saw the race. Mäx has returned.

And what does Jan think of this? Somewhere in the part of his mind that is keeping him from falling over and running into everyone, he wants everything to stop. Mäx has no part in his life, has not had a part in over a year now but…why does he feel this way if Mäx means nothing to him?

Because it is a lie. Jan never hated Mäx, never stopped liking him, in fact. _Maybe, maybe I still care about him._ Jan thinks. _I never got over him and now he's here. What if he wants to get back together? He doesn't care about the Jugendruderverein, he told me that himself. Everyone he cared about left the year he graduated except me. I'm still here. Did he come to see the race? What is he doing in France anyway if not to see me?_

"Jan?" a quiet voice asks.

Jan turns, realizing that he has lost himself in the maze of boats and oars. He looks up at Frank in confusion, almost as though he does not recognize him.

"What are you doing, Schatz?" Frank asks, reaching out to brush Jan's hair from his eyes. He caresses Jan's cheek, looking at him in worry. "Are you feeling alright? You look awfully pale."

"I- I thought I saw someone I knew," Jan says, not willing to tell Frank the truth, that he thinks he saw Mäx. It…it's not something he really wants to talk to Frank about, not when he feels so lightheaded.

"Come on, let's get you some water. You're probably dehydrated."

"Yeah," Jan mumbles, letting Frank wrap an arm around his shoulders. Frank still looks worried as he leads Jan back to the team's tent. Jan has nothing to tell him, though.

He climbs into the trailer and pretends to sleep, using Frank's lap as a pillow while Frank cards his fingers through Jan's blonde hair and kisses his temple softly. Jan pretends to be asleep, even measuring his breathing so that he seems unconscious. He is wide awake, though, his thoughts filled with memories he wish he could forget.

ØØØ

A full month passes before Mäx leaves Jan's mind. The memory of the race plagues him, causing his relationship with Frank to suffer bit by bit. Jan cannot stop thinking about where he stands, if Mäx or Juri or anyone else he has ever loved still means anything to him. He forgets about all the things Mäx did and all the things he said, only remembering the way the rower made him feel, still makes him feel.

Then, as quickly as Mäx came, he is gone. Jan wakes up one day, the memories are gone, and that is that. Jan is free, happy.

Until the day Jo Halbig shows up at David's door.

ØØØ

David giggles into his hand and Timo giggles, too. Jan just grins at the foolish pair. They are all sitting on David's porch, the two airheads attempting to tell Jan a story that sounds more bullshit than truth. David and Timo do this a lot, actually. Today their story just happened to be particularly funny to them. Jan is not quite sure what exactly they are trying to tell him since neither can get two sentences in before breaking out in infectious giggles.

"Okay, okay," Timo says. "So then we, we-"

"We got down and pretended that we were making out and this girl, she-"

David hiccups and that is all of a sudden even more hilarious as he and Timo break out in hysterical laughter. Jan shakes his head, looking out at the sidewalk. He pauses abruptly as he spots someone he would never have expected to see there.

"Jo?" he asks. The person pauses and turns stiffly to look at Jan. His eyes scan Timo and David, dismissing them to look back at Jan.

"It is you," Jan says. He gets up, his legs protesting with the sting of pins and needles at the sudden movement. "I didn't expect to ever see you again. What are you doing here?"

Jo smiles tightly.

"I have something for you," he says and shoves something into Jan's hands. Just as suddenly as he arrived, Jo is gone. Jan is left with a thick envelope in his hands. His name is written on the front in a scrawl that Jan just barely remembers.

Mäx. It comes to him suddenly. Mäx, his ex, Jo's best fri- boyfriend now. Jan cringes. How had he forgotten that? Jo has never liked him and yet Jan had forgotten and greeted him like an old friend. No wonder Jo seemed so uncomfortable- he had been.

Jan turns the envelope over and slowly, with trembling hands, slips his fingers under the glue border. He tears through the thin paper as David and Timo crowd around him, anxious to see what is says.

Dear Jan,

I don't know if you will even read this or if you ever want to talk to me again but I can try. To begin with, I'm sorry. I'm fucking sorry for the shit I put you through. All those nights you sat up with me talking, let's just say, you remember them better than me. There were times when I was so high-

Jan closes the letter quickly and shoves it in his pocket.

"Can you guys leave me alone for a bit?" he asks shakily.

"Yeah, sure," Timo says. He takes David by the waist and they go inside the house. Jan sits down on David's porch steps. He trembles all over and nearly unbalances himself off the steps. He grabs his head in his hands and takes a deep breath as the memory of his and Jo's last meeting floods his mind.

ØØØ

It is after that last party, when things had long begun to simmer between Jan and Mäx, that Jan finds them together, them being Jo and Mäx. Jan hardly remembers now why it had been so important that he had to find Mäx and pound on the bedroom door of that other person's house. Some instinct had brought Jan there, something inside his very soul demanding that he go and discover something hidden in that room.

He waits for only seconds before he pounds again, backing away as the handle turns.

Jo answers the door.

Jan stops dead in his tracks. The shock washes over him in a bitterly cold wave and, for a second, a single, awful second, he sees the triumph in Jo's eyes. There is no denying what has occurred here tonight. Jo's eyeliner is smeared past his temples and his hair, normally so carefully styled, is a mussed mess atop his head.

"Mäx," Jo calls, turning back to the bedroom with a triumphant smirk. "There's someone here to speak with you."

There is a sleepy grunt. Jan's heart sinks and the chill that so recently overcame him turns to a hot flush of mortification.

"It's f-fine," Jan stammers. He stares down at his shoelaces. "I-I'll go now. You don't need to call him."

"No," Jo says, his smirk deepening to a cruel leer. "I think I do…to show you he's mine. Mäx!" he shouts, keeping his eyes trained on Jan's burning face. His voice drops to a harsh whisper. "Perhaps now you'll learn to keep to you own kind. Mäx is too good for white trash like you. White trash, you heard me, that's what you are."

"Who is it?" Jan hears Mäx say- or he would have had he still been standing there. But he isn't. Jan is gone. He takes off running while Jo was still talking, Jo's cruel taunts following him as he went.

Jo smiles and turns back to Mäx. The brat is finally gone. Mäx is his.

ØØØ

Jan had not thought the memory of that night would still hurt. He thought all his pain and humiliation had been drained out of him those two years ago.

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and, with shaking fingers, dials a number he never forgot.

One ring. Two rings. Three rings.

Jan closes his phone with a sharp snap. He looks up and meets David's worried blue eyes.

"He wasn't there?" David asks quietly, putting his hand on Jan's knee and squeezing it. "It has been a long time. He likely has a new phone or a new number."

"No," Jan says, "he wasn't there."

"Would some hot cocoa make you feel better?" David asks, all of a sudden childish and cute. Jan swallows a grin. "I'm not so good at cooking but we have that Nestlé powder so there isn't all that much I can do to mess it up."

"I'm sure Timo can find a way," Jan says.

"I can do what?" Timo asks, suddenly at the door. He scratches his chest and yawns like he owns the place.

They go inside, Timo herding the both of them in.

"The bastard not pick up?" Timo asks as he lays his arm around Jan's shoulder, the sudden smell of his deodorant stinging Jan's nostrils. Jan shrugs. David elbows Timo in the side.

"Well, did he or didn't he?" Timo grumbles.

"He's got a new number," David hisses into Timo's ear in what he thinks is a whisper. Jan hears him as clear as daylight, David's idea of a whisper being somewhere between normal speech and a shout. Jan smiles weakly. He is not about to tell them the truth: that Mäx did pick up and that it was Jan who kept the call from going further.

While David is busy with their drinks and Timo is busy bothering David, Jan types a quick message into his phone. He does not have to look at the keys; he just counts the patterns of two or three punches to reach the letters he wants.

ØØØ

Frank opens his phone under the dinner table, takes note of the familiar number- Jan-, and quickly closes it. He excuses himself from the table, takes his plate and silverware to the sink, and sets them inside. He leans against the kitchen counter and, when no one's looking, opens the message.

He smiles in confusion at the half message. Seconds later, his cell vibrates again. Frank reads the second part of Jan's message. He smiles, not knowing what brought those words on but loving Jan for it all the same.

**I love you. Maybe we're not gonna be together forever but, for now, I want nobody else. **


End file.
